I Want a Cool Rider
by mily.alice
Summary: The second new student Blaine Anderson lays eyes on Kurt Hummel singing and dancing on a lunch table, he's head over heels. But of course a guy who dates the likes of Noah Puckerman would never be impressed by a nerdy kid with stage fright. Well, Blaine can sure as hell try. (Based a bit off Grease 2, only this is better, I promise.) *AU* nerd!Blaine AND badboy!Blaine
1. Back to School Again

**So for the past few months I have been binge watching Glee, listening to all of their songs, watching cast interviews, and today I downloaded the Glee Forever App...call it going through withdrawal if you will. I've also been reading heaps upon heaps of Klaine fanfiction. So when the song "Cool Rider" from the trainwreck of a sequel that was Grease 2 randomly popped into my head, it came along with the image of one Kurt Hummel in tight black pants dancing around a stage, and Blaine Anderson in a cardigan making gooey-eyes. And thus this pretty little fic was born.**

 **Oh, this is an AU story. It's set in Season 3, so all the original New Directions are still there, but Kurt never met Blaine and never went to Dalton. Also, there might be a few characters from Season 4 making an appearance, and Sugar and Joe have ALREADY been a part of New Directions, but decided not to join again this year. And lastly, the New Directions won Nationals twice (1st and 2nd season), pushing them up to super cool "Kings and Queens of the School" status. That's pretty much all the explanation needed for now! Enjoy!**

 ** _Disclaimer: I wish I owned Glee...not even for the money...but because my little Klaine shipper heart was broken one too many times throughout the series._**

* * *

 _Good morning William McKinley High School. This is Principal Figgins speaking._ The droll accented voice pushed through the speakers of the hallways and courtyards, though none of the students paid much attention.

Throughout campus, overachievers rushed to their lockers, jocks patted each other on the back and made too much noise, and girly girls squealed at each other over their new purses, shoes, tans, etc.

A few cheerleaders were out by the front of the school practicing lifts and occasionally forming to yell out

" _WEL-C-O-M-E  
Welcome back to McKinley_

 _Summer's over, that's too bad,_

 _Time to get our butts to class!"_

Behind the bleachers, the stoners and the skanks met up for a smoke, while the field was overrun with track, soccer, cross country, and football students who had already been showing up to campus to train for a week. Teachers pushed past people in hallways, occasionally reprimanding a student for running in the halls, but otherwise holding tightly to their coffee cups and lesson plans while trying to get to their classrooms.

"Hey, Mr. Schuester!"

"Hey, guys, welcome back," Will smiled at the group of sophomore students who passed by, waving at their teacher.

"Sup, Mr. Schue!"

"Hey, Joe!" Will raised his hand to high-five the junior.

"Have a blessed first day!" Joe put his hand over his own chest, making Will shake his head and smile.

"Mr. Schue! Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Sugar," Will's smile grew even larger.

"Miss Pillsbury just told me! I expect an invitation even if I'm not in the Glee club anymore."

"Of course, Sugar. You know you can come back to New Directions any time."

"I _do_ miss the awesome jackets," Sugar winked, "But it just wasn't for me, ya know? Too much stress on my Asperger's. Anyway, I gotta go. My neighbor's cousin just transferred and I promised to show him around. Later, Mr. Schue!"

"Have a nice day, Sugar."

Will looked at the clock on the wall, realizing that he better get a move on if he wanted to have all the scripts ready in time for first period. This year's winter musical promised to be big, with the increased budget and so many students dying to be a part of it now, so they needed to start right away.

"Hello, Schuester."

Will sighed at the sound of an all too familiar voice, "Just when I thought my morning was going perfectly. Hello, Sue. How many freshman have you made cry so far?"

"Only three, but first period hasn't started yet. Besides, I've been busy."

"Doing what?"

"Oh, just successfully convincing Figgins to cut back your budget."

"What?!"

"Oh don't worry, your precious little glee club is still in tact, for now. You'll just have to make do without turning the auditorium into a jungle or ocean or whatever childhood fantasy of yours you want to relive. Catch you later, Will."

"I hate that woman," Will muttered, redirecting his steps toward the principal's office.

* * *

Outside, the students were still abuzz with chatter. Everybody was catching up, freshmen were finding friends from middle school in relief, and buses were releasing students by the dozens. The noise fell significantly, however, when a black Navigator and a red Range Rover pulled up, followed by two guys on motorcycles.

Soon enough, seven boys and six girls were making their way through the courtyard. Four of the boys wore football jerseys, while a fourth was in a white button up and khakis, his wheelchair being pushed by one of the boys who had arrived by motorcycle in a plaid shirt. He and the other biker bore a striking resemblance to each other, although nobody really knew who this new kid was. The last boy, who had arrived in his Navigator with the girls, was dressed to the nines along with his non-cheerleader female counterparts.

While each of the thirteen students seemed to own their personal style, one thing set them apart as McKinley''s elite.

Most of the jocks wore red and beige letterman jackets, and the cheerleaders, or Cheerios, wore red jackets with white piping. But these students rocked their own sleeker, tougher looking black jackets with red sleeves and piping. Each emblazoned with their names on the right side of the chest, a large red M on the left, and one of two things written on the back in white-lined red letters: CROONING TITAN or, in the case of the girls and the driver of the Navigator, TROUBLETONE.

As the group approached the courtyard, the crowds of students split to let them through. These were the members of McKinley High's most successful club, challenged only by the Cheerios. The New Directions had started as a place for the misfits and the invisible, but had sky rocketed with the help of McKinley's most popular teacher into a two time National's winning, fine tuned machine of the most popular, fashionable, and sought after students in the entire school. Everybody who didn't want to be a New Direction, wanted to be _with_ a New Direction, which was no easy feat, since apparently the New Directions only dated among themselves, with the occasional date between a 'Crooner' and a Cheerio or a college girl, but never anything serious.

"You know, Jake, you don't actually have to push my wheelchair. I can push it on my own," said Artie to the biker without the New Directions jacket.

"It's no problem, man. Really."

"Yeah, Artie," said Puck, "Besides, if my little brother wants to be a Crooner he's got to work for it. If he can't get slushied, he might as well do something useful."

"We're going to be late," Kurt said, "Hurry up or I'm taking my girls and leaving you behind."

"Nobody hurries up a Puckerman, babe. You know I like taking it slow," the mohawked biker winked at the Troubletone leader, fist bumping his very confused younger brother.

The male Troubletone huffed in reply, linking his arm with Quinn, his right-hand Troubletone, "We're out. See you boys at lunch. Come on, girls."

"New Directions! New Directions!" the always annoying voice, appearance, and personality of Jacob Ben Israel appeared before them holding a video camera. Despite the nuisance, the singers all smiled, "Tell us, what can we expect now that more than half of you are set to graduate this year?"

"Expect the Crooners to come back hotter and more rock n roll than ever before," the older Puckerman popped the collar of his jacket and high-fived the rest of his group.

Rachel Berry rolled her eyes and stepped forward, "The New Directions are coming back stronger than ever. You can expect another Nationals win, and with the bigger budget, our in-school performances promise to be bigger and better than ever before."

"You can also expect plenty of diva offs. It's our senior year, we are not holding anything back this year, honey, you can tell your viewers Mercedes said so," the girl in question winked at the camera.

"And as for most of us graduating, we've already started preparing for that," said Brittany.

"My girl Brittany here is all set to take up the mantle as Head Trouble when Lady Hummel graduates," said Santana, linking her pinkie finger with her blonde companion.

"And Sam here is already in training to become McKinley's new reigning resident bad ass," said Puck, his hand shaking the blonde jock's shoulder.

"And as you can see," Rachel continued, looking into the camera, "We've already started looking into potential new members. We lost Sugar last year, but we're ready to take in as much new talent as we can find this year, so that next year the remaining members don't have to start from zero."

"Any dates for auditions yet?"

"Not yet," said Finn, "But we'll post a sign up sheet a week before."

"We're going to be late," said TIna from behind the two Cheerios, "We should get going."

"One last question!" said Jacob, making the others huff, groan, or roll their eyes in annoyance, "Can you confirm rumors of a Back-To-School number that you were all seen rehearsing over the last month?"

The Latina Cheerios smirked, her right hand grabbing at a whistle around her neck, "Well, there's only one way to answer that question. Hit it!"

The Cheerios in the courtyard heard the whistle go off and rushed to the New Directions' sides, clicking on a large stereo and standing in as back up dancers.

The Glee Club began to move along with the classic sounding rock music, popping their colors just as Sam Evans began singing.

 _Spending my vacation in the summer sun,_ ** _  
_** _Gettin' lots of action and a lots of fun._ ** _  
_** _Scorin' like a bandit 'til the bubble burst -_ ** _  
_** _Suddenly it got to be September First._

Finn Hudson joined in, stepping up front with Sam and Puck while the others danced behind them.

 _Woe is me, all summer long I was happy and free._ ** _  
_** _Save my soul,_

The entire Glee Club joined in for the next few lines, posing at the foot of the stairs that led to the front door of McKinley.

 _the board of education took away my parole._ ** _  
_** _I gotta go back, back, back to school again._ ** _  
_** _You won't find me 'til the clock strikes three;_ ** _  
_** _I'm gonna be there 'til then..._ ** _  
_** _I gotta go back, back, back to school again._ ** _  
_** _Whoa, whoa, I gotta go... back to school again!_

The Glee Club marched into the school building, making students and teachers stand aside as they passed down the red and white main hallway. Miss Pillsbury waved at them from her office as each member sent a wave, smile, or wink her way. Not many students (or teachers, for that matter) took the guidance counselor seriously, but it was an unspoken rule among the members of New Directions that Emma Pillsbury was a gift from the heavens above and was to be protected and loved at all costs.

As they turned a corner, Puck began a solo.

 _Geometry and history is just a pain,_ ** _  
_** _Biology and chemistry destroys my brain._ ** _  
_** _Well don't they know that I deserve a better fate?_ ** _  
_** _I'm really much too young to matriculate._

The rest of the Glee Club joined in, interacting with the rest of the students by spinning them, dancing around them, or putting their arms around their shoulders throughout the choreography. Soon enough, even a few teachers had joined in.

 _Well mama please, your child's come down with a fatal disease._ ** _  
_** _Mama said, "Come on you lazy bum now get your butt out of bed!"_ ** _  
_** _"You gotta go back, back, back to school again!"_ ** _  
_** _It's bye-bye fun, get your homework done,_ ** _  
_** _You better be in by ten,_

 _I gotta go back, back, back to school again._ ** _  
_** _Whoa, whoa, I gotta go... back to school again!_

* * *

Meanwhile out front, Sugar shook her head at her friends' shenanigans and looked at the picture on her phone again. If this new kid stepped off the bus, she did not want to miss him. Just as the last of the Cheerios/back up dancers entered the school, another bus pulled up and released a few dozen students, including a rather short boy in gray slacks, a gray and white striped cardigan over a white dress shirt, and a dark gray bow tie.

"Blaine?"

"Ugh...Sugar Motta?"

"That's me!" Sugar smiled, popping the gum she'd been chewing.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too, cupcake. Nice bow tie."

"Really? It's not too much?"

Sugar laughed and motioned at her cheetah print shirt, white fur vest, and high heels, "Honey, if I can get away with wearing this, you can rock a bow tie. Don't worry. You're not the only fashion forward student at this school."

Blaine sighed in relief, "Thanks for offering to show me around, by the way."

"Oh, no problem!" Sugar looped her arm through Blaine's and led him toward the school entrance, "When Sandy told me you were moving here from Westerville, I told her that any cousin of hers is a cousin of mine. You went to Dalton before right?"

"Yeah."

"I've met a few students from there. Are you friends with any of the Warblers?"

"Um, no, not really," Blaine smiled shyly, "I didn't do much singing back at Dalton. I mean, I wanted to, but...stage fright. One of the guys was on the Lacrosse team with me, but that's about it."

"That's a shame. The Glee Club here is looking for new recruits this year. You should join."

Blaine shrugged, "Maybe."

Sugar smiled at him, although she had a feeling that Blaine was too scared to try out. Maybe she'd be able to convince him once they got to know each other better.

"So this is the courtyard where most people hang out before class. Don't ever use the bathrooms out here, though. Your best bet are the ones near the teacher's lounge, or down the hall from the choir room."

"Hey, Sugar?"

"Yeah."

"Um...I'm not sure how to phrase this but...what are the students like? I mean, are they mostly nice, or..."

"You mean do people get bullied here?"

Blaine nodded.

"It's okay, Blaine. Sandy said you might be nervous about that because you had trouble at your old school. I'll be honest. A few years ago, this school was horrible if you weren't a Cheerio – that's a cheerleader – or a jock. People got thrown in dumpsters and pushed against lockers and slushied all the time. But that all changed at the beginning of last year."

"Why? How?"

Sugar shrugged, "The losers became the cool kids. The quarterback's mom married the gay kid's dad. The biggest homophobic bully came out of the closet. The cheerleading captain came out and started dating another cheerleader. The quarterback started dating the theater freak with a big nose and the kid in the wheelchair turned out to be a really, really good rapper. And he also dated a cheerleader. And me. And then another cheerleader. So basically the lines that split everybody up got erased. All those kids I mentioned were in the Glee Club, and when we won Nationals a second time last year, it pretty much sealed the deal in turning New Directions into McKinley High School Royalty. And the New Directions don't let anybody get bullied while they're around. They're like the Bully Police. So as far as getting bullied for being gay, don't worry about it."

"What about for being a nerd?" Blaine asked, unable to hide a playful smile.

Sugar laughed loudly, "You're funny! I think that cancels out being a nerd."

"Thanks."

"Come on, I'll show you the cafeteria."

Sugar led Blaine down the halls of McKinley, turning to the right and then to the left. As they made the second turn, the sounds of music and singing reached Blaine's ears.

"Oh good! We haven't missed the whole thing! Come on!"

Blaine ran into the cafeteria, pulled along by Sugar, and immediately his eyes widened. All around him students were dancing and clapping. On various lunch tables, a group of about a dozen students was singing and dancing, including a kid in a wheelchair who had been lifted onto a round table at the far end of the cafeteria.

 _I got my books together and I dragged my feet,_ ** _  
_** _Then I saw this angel boppin' down the street._ ** _  
_** _I said, "Hey, pretty baby, how_ _'_ _s about a date?"_ ** _  
_** _She said, "I'm going to school, and I can't be late."_

"These are the New Directions?" Blaine raised his eyebrows and Sugar nodded. The New Directions were all wearing matching black and red jackets with red Ms on the front. There seemed to be something written on the back, but he couldn't tell much.

"SUGAR MOTTA! GET YOUR PERKY BUTT UP HERE!"

Blaine turned toward the voice that had yelled and had to remind himself to blink. A very cute guy was motioning toward Sugar. He was tall and lean, with the nicest blue eyes and perfect skin. His hair was set in a perfect coif, and he'd popped the collar of his jacket and rolled up the sleeves. A red neck scarf was wrapped around his neck, and a blue dress shirt peeked out from beneath his jacket, paired with black pants that were so tight Blaine was sure they were illegal. He wasn't going to be one to complain about the view, though.

Sugar smiled, "Do you mind? I'll be right back."

"Not at all. I can hold your notebooks if you want," Blaine motioned to the journals in Sugar's hands.

"Aw, you're a sweetheart. I'll be right back."

Sugar allowed Mr. Tall and Cute to help her up onto the lunch table, and Blaine stood back to watch them all sing and dance. It was easy to see these kids winning a National Championship. The Warblers at Dalton had been incredible, but they hadn't made it to Naitonals in the past two years, and Blaine could now see why.

 _Well, I can see, that look in her eyes was sayin' "Follow me,"_ ** _  
_** _And I was caught - I thought of playing hooky, but on second thought,_ ** _  
_** _I gotta go back, back, back to school again._ ** _  
_** _You won't find me 'til the clock strikes three;_ ** _  
_** _I'm gonna be there 'til then..._ ** _  
_** _I gotta go back, back, back to school again._ ** _  
_** _Whoa, whoa, I gotta go... back to school ... again!_

Blaine clapped along with the rest of the students, handing Sugar back her notebooks.

"You were amazing!"

Sugar shrugged, "I'll tell you a secret...I'm tone deaf. I just hum melodies and dance real good. I doubt they'll miss me all that much. Besides, I won't have time for rehearsals this year. My sister an I are starting a fashion line."

A whistle blew so loudly in the cafeteria that everybody covered their ears. Blaine looked up to see a tall woman in a red track suit blowing her whistle into a bullhorn.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?!"

The entire cafeteria went deadly silent, the tension clear until another teacher with curly hair and a light drown vest walked in and everybody seemed to relax. This teacher looked nice enough as he smiled and yet still looked reprimanding.

"Alright guys, fun's over. Time to go to class, come on. First day of school! Let's go! New Directions! Choir room now!"

Students quickly began to filter out, the New Directions huddling together and walking out with a quick smile and wave at Sugar. Blaine tried not to stare after the cute guy in tight pants.

"Come on, Blaine. Your first class is on the way to mine."

* * *

The New Directions walked into the choir room and scattered about, Kurt going to the mirror to check his post-dance hair.

"Tina, I am loving this new look, girl!"

"Thanks, Mercedes."

"Oh my goodness, did Tina Cohen Chang just smile?" Quinn asked, a playful glint in her eye.

"It's been known to happen."

"Well, keep it up," said Kurt, turning away from his reflection, "A Troubletone has to be fierce and fabulous. And part of being fierce and fabulous is not being afraid to smile, Miss Cohen-Chang."

"You know what else makes a person fabulous? A nice fine a-"

"Did you lose something Puckerman?" Quinn asked, crossing her arms at Puck as he inched closer and closer to Kurt, who looked bored out of his mind by Puck's mere presence.

"So, Princess. What's the word on the street?"

"Are you implying that I spend time on the street, Puckerman? Because I'm pretty sure I should be the one directing that comment."

The girls all hid their laughter to various degrees.

"Come on, Princess. You're not going to embarrass me in front of my little brother are you? Especially since up until two months ago I had no idea I even had a brother."

"I'm not doing anything, Noah. You're embarrassing yourself. I told you. This _thing_ we had is over. Besides, shouldn't your brother be heading to his own class?"

"Well, I'm not sure I'm okay with that, Princess."

"Then I guess you'll just have to go lock yourself in the costume closet and cry because I don't plan on changing my mind."

Quinn snorted loudly at that.

"Yeah, it's really funny, Fabray."

"Actually it is. Now I think Kurt wants you to leave him alone."

Puckerman cast one last look at Kurt before going back to Finn and Sam. Finn cast Kurt an apologetic look, to which Kurt only shrugged at his brother.

Before the scene could get anymore dramatic, Mr. Schuester walked into the room.

"Alright guys we've got quite a few things on the agenda to start off. First of all, good job on this morning's number. But maybe try not to cut into class time for the next one. Also, Sue's plotting continues this year, and she attempted to have our budget cut back down to its original amount."

There was outbreak from the entire group, but mostly Tina and Mercedes who had been counting on not having to recycle pieces of old outfits, and Artie who had been planning on a very elaborate set for a rendition of Katy Perry's Last Friday Night.

"However!" Will yelled over the noise and the Glee Club fell silent, "I convinced him to cut only half of what he was planning to. Which means that we can still afford costumes, props, a few sets, and the proper transportation for all of us. And it's still more money than what we're used to having. If we end up needing more, we can always have a fundraiser."

"Yes because we've always done so well with those before," said Kurt.

"Hey, we've made good money off of those!" said Will.

"Yeah because Puckerman put weed in the brownies," Santana laughed, making the others either chuckle or scoff at the memories.

"And let's not forget my windshield ***** cough ***** Mercedes*cough.* I don't think any of us is looking forward to another one of our brilliant fundraisers."

"Well then we'll just have to improvise like we always have, and not let the extra money go to our heads. Next on the agenda: Principal Figgins wants us to do the school play again, but this year he wants it to be a winter play, not spring."

"But that overlaps with Sectionals," said Rachel.

"Which is why I strongly suggest that whoever gets a solo or a duet at Sectionals does not audition for a lead role in the play we'll be setting up. I'm going to assume that Artie will volunteer as Director."

"Yes, sir. Although I'd like to know what I'm directing first."

"Oh. Right. Sorry about that. This year's school musical is going to be one of the greatest and most popular musicals of high schools all across the country. Drum roll, please, Mr. Hudson."

Finn tapped a quick beat against his chair with a pencil as Mr. Schuester stepped up to the board and wrote in large black letters: GREASE!

There was general excitement from the entire club, except for Rachel who frowned.

"What's wrong Rachel?" asked Tina.

"Rachel, I thought you'd be the first one to jump on her chair at this," said Kurt, shrugging off his Troubletone jacket.

"Oh, I'm very excited about it! I love Grease and I've always wanted to play Sandy...but..."

"But her majesty wants a solo at Sectionals," Santana finished for her.

Rachel shrugged, "You see my dilema."

"Well, you'll have to choose one, Rachel. Doing both would be too much stress and too much strain on your voice." said Mr. Schuester.

"We'll have a Troubletone meeting later and we can decide who auditions for Sandy." said Kurt with finality, "I suggest the Crooners do the same for Danny Zuko. Next point, Mr. Schuester."

"Okay. The next thing is that we need to start recruiting. Sam was right with what he said at our last meeting. This time next year only three of you will still be here, and we'll only have a couple months to prepare new members for competitions. We've got to get some more in now, so that this time next year we have a full team of people who are ready for competitions. So throughout the week I want you to look for people that you think might fit the roster. Basically, people who love to sing and/or dance."

"Preferably both," said Mike, "It took long enough to teach me to hold a tune."

"Yeah, and even longer to teach me how to do a hip roll."

"Finn, you still can't do a hip roll."

"Exactly."

The group laughed. This was the great thing about Glee Club. They didn't allow each other to forget who they were: a bunch of goofy misfits who loved to sing and dance.

"Well, I don't know about you guys," said Mercedes, "But I already have my eye on some mega eye candy. And it just so happens that he was tapping along to our little jam session in the cafeteria."

"Mercedes, everybody was jamming along with us," said Quinn.

"They all love us," said Brittany, "Well, mostly me. You guys just make me look better."

Mercedes simply rolled her eyes at Brittany's antics, knowing that she meant well, "Yeah, but this kid had that look, you know? The same one Sam had when we did Empire State of Mind."

"If he has that look we need him in," said Finn.

"Who is this mystery music lover?" asked Tina.

"I think he's new." said Mercedes, "I would remember somebody as tiny and cute as that. He was with Sugar earlier."

"Bow tie kid?" Puck snorted, "That guy's a total nerd. He looked more nervous than Hummel at a Westboro Baptist Church convention."

"And you wonder why I broke up with you," Kurt mumbled, making Finn snort next to him. He spoke up at the next words, "While I agree that this new kid looks very...preppy..."

"Nerdy."

"Whatever. We don't even know if he can sing yet. Don't you Crooners have some sort of entry requirements?"

"Be cool." said Artie.

"Sing good." said Sam.

"Have heart." said Finn.

"Be a badass." said Puck.

"Need I remind you boys that before glee club most of us didn't fit more than two of those descriptions," said Tina, "I had a stutter."

"I uploaded myself singing show tunes onto MySpace." Rachel shuttered.

"I got pregnant."

"I was straight."

"Me too."

"Me three."

"Kurt, babe, nobody thought you were straight," said Puck.

"Didn't keep you from throwing me in the dumpster."

"Is that what this is about? I thought we got past that, Kurt!"

"I told you I just outgrew this...whatever it was!"

"Okay! Okay! Settle down, guys," said Mr. Schuester, "We've got the main points down, now I want to get started on our plan for Sectionals."

Kurt sighed and focused his attention back on Mr. Schue. Finn bumped his elbow and smiled encouragingly. Kurt ruefully smiled back at his brother. They were in for a very, very busy year.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The song is from the Grease 2 soundtrack, and the idea of Crooners and Troubletones stems from T-Birds and Pink Ladies, obviously.**

 **Please review!**


	2. A Bowling Alley and a New Friend

**2nd upload in 2 days! I'm on a roll. For anybody who is following my other 2 stories, I'm a little behind on those, and I am so so so sorry. I promise they are not being abandoned, it just might take a while for me to continue them. THIS story has already been written, so other than a few last minute adjustments it's ready to be uploaded on the regular.**

 **The two songs here are _Score Tonight_ from Grease 2, and _New York State of Mind,_ the Glee version, of course.**

 _ **Disclaimer: As per usual, I don't own any of the songs, characters, or story lines featured here. I just play around with them when I can't come up with stories and characters of my own.**_

* * *

That day after school, the New Directions gathered once again, this time splitting between the choir room for the boys, while the Troubletones made their way toward the bleachers so that the Cheerios would be on time to practice.

"First order of business, girls." said Kurt as they walked across the field, Rachel struggling to keep up in her kitten heels that kept sinking into the ground, "Who tries out for a Sectionals solo and who tries out for Sandy."

"I'm going to be heading the costume department for both, which means either one is out of the question for me," said Tina. "I'm going to be swamped enough as it is."

"I can help you with some of the costume design for the play. I doubt the boys will like any of my input for their sectionals outfits, but I think I could whip up a few Rydell cheerleader outfits and lettermans." said Kurt.

"You are a gift from God," said Tina, hugging Kurt tightly.

"This I know. Anybody else?"

"I'm out." said Brittany, "Mike and I have to bring it with our Sectionals choreography and we're probably going to end up helping Mr. Schue choreograph the play, too."

"Artie already asked me to help him with production," said Mercedes, "I've got to find all the props and talk to the art kids about scenery."

"Sue has been on my ass all summer about getting the Cheerios to Nationals," said Santana, "I'll take a part in the play and I'll incorporate myself into whatever Brit and Mike plan out, but I won't have time to learn lines and songs for Sandy, or take on a solo at Sectionals. Although I would look hotter than any one of you in that leather outfit. Except maybe you, Brit."

"Maybe I'll buy you the outfit anyway," Brittany smiled in a way that almost took away the dirty second meaning of that sentence. Almost.

"That leaves Quinn and Rachel." said Tina.

"Can I be perfectly honest?" asked Kurt, and both girls nodded, "Look, last year's duet between Sam and Quinn was great. And we won. It's just..."

"Stop right there," Quinn held up a hand, "Look, as much as I would _love_ to see someone other than Rachel get the solo or the duet this year, I also know that she's probably spent all summer improving her voice, whereas I spent my whole summer trying to prove to Shelby that I could babysit Beth every now and then. And Sam and I lost whatever chemistry we had a long time ago. Rachel, I know you want to play Sandy, but I also know that you and Finn took one for the team last year by letting Sam and I sing. And Kurt and I are asking you to do the same this year. We need you at Sectionals."

Rachel sighed before shaking her head, "But if anybody other than you gets Sandy, I'm revolting."

"We'll make sure nobody even tries." said Santana, leading Brittany away with her, "Gotta go. Sue just walked on the field."

"I'm going to text Finn to make sure he doesn't audition for Danny." Rachel pulled out her phone as they headed to the bleachers.

"Yeah, because my awkward as hell brother could totally pull off Danny Zuko. Your boyfriend doesn't have a single badass bone in his body."

"Yours does," Rachel giggled.

Kurt's expression turned sour, "Noah is not my boyfriend."

"Hey, what's up with that anyway?" asked Tina.

"Yeah. Puck was always all over you, how did you end up breaking up?"

"Like I said in class, I outgrew him over the summer. I started talking about my goals for this year and making it big in New York City and all he could think about was sucking my face off. Guess I realized there's more to life than just making out. Besides, who needs a badass future Lima Loser when there are plenty of totally hot NYADA students waiting for me in New York?"

"Speaking of hotties," Rachel mischievously, looking toward the track, "Look who ditched the bow tie."

Kurt turned toward the track to see where Rachel was motioning. It didn't take long to figure out who she was talking about. The new kid, whose name Kurt didn't even know, was running at high speed, jumping over obstacles while the Lacrosse coach urged him on, looking excited. Sure enough, he'd ditched the trousers and the bow ties and was wearing a red McKinley High School Physical Education t-shirt that was snug around his incredibly tiny waist, and a pair of black running shorts which Kurt didn't think would look good anywhere other than a movie set in the 1980s. And yet this kid made it work.

"I met him." said Tina, "Well, sort of. He sat behind me in English. His name's Blaine Anderson. I introduced myself but he got all nervous and started stuttering a-la Tina 2009. But Sugar told me he just moved here from Westerville. He was some sort of wizkid at Dalton. Straight As, AP classes, the whole _shebang_."

"Warbler?"

"No. I asked Sugar. He said he doesn't sing and he gets stage fright so..."

"That's a no on the new recruit then."

"Sugar said she'd help us out with that. She feels bad for leaving us one short but she doesn't have the time," said Mercedes, "I told her to look for a girl if possible, since the boys already got a head start with Puck's brother."

Blaine had stopped running and was approaching the coach, who patted him on the back and seemed to congratulate him while the kid turned every shade of red imaginable and seemed to almost twitch.

"Homeboy looks scared of his own shadow," Mercedes shook her head.

"It's a shame," Kurt nodded, "A butt like that could have given us a point in our favor. I guess mine will have to do."

The girls giggled.

"Anywaaayyy...now that we've got our biggest issue out of the way, we need to put up these," said Kurt, handing the sign up sheets that he'd printed out at lunch time to the girls, "Sam and Finn are taking care of the boys' locker rooms and the weight room. We've got the hallways, cafeterias, and outside Miss Pillsbury's office. Oh, and outside the choir room, obviously."

"You got it, babe," said Mercedes, walking off with the rest of the girls.

Kurt took a moment to put his folder back in his bag, and suddenly felt somebody's eyes on him. He looked up, and quickly caught the eyes of the new kid, who was stretching and staring at Kurt at the same time. As soon as he saw Kurt noticed, his face turned the same shade as his McKinley shirt and he fell backward onto his ass.

Kurt snorted. Poor kid. At least the bullying at McKinley had stopped, but this guy was probably in for a long year if he really was this embarrassed by everything he did.

* * *

Blaine unlocked the door to his house and stepped inside, removing his shoes just beyond the door.

"I'm home!"

"Hey, squirt."

"Cooper!" Blaine ran toward his brother and hugged him enthusiastically, "What are you doing here?"

"I had some time off, thought I'd come see how everybody was settling in."

"Have you gone to see dad yet?" Blaine asked in a low voice.

"He has and there is no reason to keep it a secret." Pam walked into the living room form the kitchen, "He may no longer be my husband, but your father will always be your father and you are both free to see him any time you want. You know that. How was your first day of school, sweetie?"

"It was fine. I tried out for lacrosse."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The coach seemed impressed. He told me to stick around for the rest of the week and that he'd decide by Friday if I made the team or not."

"That's great, little brother!"

"Any cute boys?" Pam asked, eyes twinkling.

"Mo-om," Blaine groaned, "Seriously? I've only been at McKinley for a day. Most of which was spent with my nose buried in a map trying to find my way around."

"Woah, woah. Hold on a second. Did you say McKinley?" asked Cooper, holding up a finger.

"Yeah."

"As in William McKinley High School's New Directions? As in two time Show Choir National Champions?"

"Ugh, yeah," said Blaine, his eyes flickering down and his hand going to rub the back of his neck.

"Dude! That's awesome! Have you heard them sing yet?"

"I did, yeah. They did a number in the cafeteria before first period. It was like being in High School Musical, only everybody dresses better."

"Because of the jackets?"

"Because of the jackets." Blaine nodded.

"Any cute boys there?" Pam joked.

"Mom. Really?"

"Uh-oh," said Cooper, "He's blushing. Look at that. He's redder than a tomato. That means yes. Who is he?"

"Is he cute?"

"What does he sing like?"

"Guys, guys! Really. It's just some random singer who dresses really well. I don't even know his name," that was a lie, "And I don't have any classes with him," also a lie, though the other boy probably hadn't even noticed with the way he spaced out in their Sociology class, "And while I'm fairly certain that he's gay, I'm also pretty sure he has a boyfriend. There's this tough looking biker on the football team that trails after him and kisses his cheek every chance he gets so..."

"Aw, I'm sorry honey. I didn't mean to upset you. I was just trying to joke around a bit."

"It's fine, mom," Blaine laughed. Because it really was. Kurt Hummel was just a cute guy, nothing he couldn't get over right away, "What's for dinner? All that running has me starving."

"It'll be done in a few minutes. Go wash up. Cooper, can you help me set the table?"

"Sure, Mom."

* * *

"Blaine!"

Blaine turned toward the fence and smiled, jogging off the track and over to Sugar, who was smiling and waving excitedly.

"Hi Sugar," he smiled politely.

"Hey, cutie," she smiled back even brighter, making Blaine blush, because attention was attention no whether he was gay or not, "How's your first week going?"

"Great. The coach said I made the team."

"You're a football player?"

"Lacrosse."

"Oh, I see. You didn't look much like a football player. Although, Kurt Hummel was on the football team once so you can't really judge that sort of thing."

"Kurt Hummel was on the football team?"

"Yep. He was the kicker for like one game. The only one we won that year, actually. But that was a long time ago."

"Is there anything else you might know about Kurt?"

"Yeah, totally. I was a Troubletone before, you know? And he's the...oh. I see." Sugar's face dropped.

"See what?"

"Look, Blaine, I know Kurt is very cute, and he's a great guy...but when it comes to Troubletones, they don't really date outside their circle. So unless you're a Crooner, you can look but you can't touch."

"Oh," Blaine bit his bottom lip as Kurt walked through the parking lot in the distance, some of his fellow Troubletones trailing behind him.

"And, Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"With an ex-boyfriend like Kurt's, I wouldn't even look."

A few minutes later, Kurt's Navigator pulled up just outside the football field and the girls climbed out with him to watch the football team's practice. The quarterback, who Blaine had learned was named Finn and was Kurt's step-brother, waved at the short girl – Rachel – when she blew him a kiss. The mohawked guy, who Blaine could now confirm was _not_ Kurt's boyfriend but his still very hung up ex, winked at Kurt, who promptly turned to the girl named Mercedes and ignored the bad-boy.

Artie, the only Crooning Titan who was not on the football team due to his handicap, joined the Troubletones a few minutes later to yell at the football players.

"Hey! Karofsky!" Kurt yelled, "Maybe if you pretend the ball is my ass, you'll run after it faster!"

Blaine didn't know whether to laugh, blush, or hide. Karofsky was the hugest guy he'd ever seen. Who in their right mind would say something like that him?

Waiting for a homophobic slur that never came, Blaine was relieved when Karofsky laughed and shook his head.

"In your dreams, Fancy Pants!"

Kurt then proceeded to yell at his step brother.

"Really Finn?! Do I have to get up and show you how to push a cushion?! Run! Faster! Faster!"

"HEY PINK LADIES! RUN ON THIS!"

It was over before it even started. One second Kurt was yelling at his brother and their friends, and the next two large black GMC Denalis had driven past Kurt's car and the people inside had thrown what looked like eggs and something syrupy onto every surface they could reach.

There was a brief moment in which the entire football field and track went silent. Everybody froze. Blaine had only been here for a week, and already even he knew the type of care Kurt Hummel gave to his car.

Whispering broke out as Kurt walked closer and closer to his car, and Blaine strained to hear the conversation that followed.

"Eggs and caramel. Seirously? Carmel High School...carameling cars?"

"This has gone way too far," said Finn, with the voice of someone who was ready to lead an army into battle, "They can't keep getting away with this sort of crap!"

"Oh they won't," said Puck, who looked just as offended as Kurt did. Kurt was so shell shocked by the sight of his car that he didn't even bother giving Puckerman a dirty look, "These idiots have been trespassing on our turf for way too long. Somebody needs to teach them not to mess with us. We've beat them twice on the stage, we can beat them on the streets."

"Hate to break it to you suckers," the Cheerio named Santana said, "But Puck's right. You have two bad asses right here. Not to mention somebody as driven as Berry, somebody as cut throat as Lady Hummel, and as witty with a come back as my girl Quinn. We can kick Carmel High's ass any day we want. On stage and off."

"No. I need a night off," Kurt shook his head, "Let's just head to the bowling alley tonight. We can kick some Vocal Adrenaline tomorrow."

Blaine stopped listening after that. If the New Directions were going to the bowling alley tonight, so was he. Troubletone or not, he was going to find a way to make himself at least say hello to Kurt without spitting up all over himself.

* * *

"Hey, Fabray." Puck jogged to catch up to Quinn in the parking lot of the bowling alley.

"What is it, Puckerman?" Quinn asked in a clipped voice, not slowing down on her way from her car to the front door.

"Oh, come on. Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Talk to me like there's a piece of dog crap under your nose. I'm the father of your child!"

"Don't remind me."

"Quinn. Come on," Puck reached out to lightly grab Quinn's arm so she would turn around.

"What do you want, Puckerman? Shouldn't you be in a corner booth somewhere pining over Kurt?"

"Look, I know I messed up with him. I guess he and I just weren't meant to be, alright? All it ever was was physical. And that was stupid. I accept that. But I'm not trying to talk to you about Kurt. I want to talk about Beth."

"What about Beth?"

"I know you spent most of the summer hanging out with her and Shelby and I know you've babysat a couple times. I was just hoping that one of these days you would let us babysit together, you know? I already talked to Shelby about it, and she's cool with it. Beth likes me and I already know how to feed her."

"Babysitting the baby we gave up isn't going to make us a family, Puck," Quinn spoke quietly and shook her head.

"I know it's not. We messed up, alright? Big time. I messed up. And neither one of us was ready to be a full time parent. But Beth is still mine, just like she's still yours. And we're blessed that Shelby lets us spend time with her. I just think that maybe it would be a good idea for her to think of both of us as her parents, you know? And be close to both of us together, not separately. Just one night. I'll be on my best behavior. Scout's honor."

"I'll think about it," Quinn answered softly, "Can you let me go now?"

Puck looked down at his hand, which was still lightly curled around Quinn's arm, and let go quickly. His grip had been so slack that Quinn easily could have walked away, but for some reason she'd chosen to stay there until he physically let go.

Puck tried and failed to hide his smile. Quinn was right. Babysitting Beth wouldn't turn them into a family. Puck was in no shape to be a father at his age, but there was no denying that Quinn Fabray stirred something deep within him that nobody, not even Kurt and his gentle hands and gentle words, had been able to stir.

* * *

"Mike, you can't count a strike if you throw it from three feet away," said Kurt.

"Babe, you're going to count the strike right?" Mike traced a finger over Tina's face. They were using the screens that usually marked the score to play the music videos of their choice, meaning that the score was being kept on paper.

Tina broke out the sweetest smile she could muster, "Not a chance, honey. Quinn, you're up!"

Everybody stopped to watch Quinn.

"I love it when she does this," Rachel whispered to Brittany, who nodded and watched as the other blonde grabbed the ball without putting her fingers in the holes and knelt down at the edge of the lane. She took a deep breath and slowly rolled the ball forward.

It took twice as long as the usual turn, but at the end all of the pins fell and the Troubletones cheered while Quinn looked very smug.

"Nicely done, Fabray," Puck smirked at her, to which Quinn only shrugged a shoulder before going to high five the rest of her team.

"What's the final score?" asked Kurt.

"Final score happens later tonight," Sam raised his eyebrows quickly.

Mercedes snorted at him, "Yeah, because I'm sure knocking over three pins will have all the girls lined up next to your motorcycle by the end of the night."

"Jealous, Mercedes?"

"In your dreams, white boy."

Everybody laughed, but the slightly pained look that flickered in Sam's eyes before he laughed along was not lost on Kurt.

"My card says it's a tie," said Tina after a few seconds.

"Mine too," said Artie, looking up from his own score card. They'd had one person on each team write it down to prevent anybody from cheating, "Tie breaker?"

"You know what that means," Rachel stood from her spot next to Brittany, "Sing off. Troubletones vs. Crooners."

"You're on." Finn smiled good-naturedly. "It's the Troubles' turn to pick a song. Just please, not Lady Gaga."

The girls ran over to the computer that was hooked up to the screens. The bowling alley was always full of McKinley students on Friday nights, which meant they were all accustomed to the New Directions walking in and taking over two lanes with their own shoes and bowling uniforms. The girls wore pink bowling shirts, except for Kurt who wore navy blue, and matching white bowling shoes. The boys kept to black with their shirts and shoes, except for their team leader Finn, who wore the same shade of blue as Kurt but in a much looser design and with pants that he could actually breathe in.

The Friday night bowlers were also used to the typical victory and/or tie breaking sing off that was improvised by the New Directions. So when they heard excited chatting and saw the Troubletones walking toward the music computer, they knew to pause their games and get ready to enjoy the show.

"I think I found the exact number for this particular sing off during Mr. Schue's 'bad sequels' week."

"If it's what I think it is then I want to be Michele Pfieffer or the deals off," said Kurt.

"Like I would let you be anybody else," Rachel smiled, "Ready? Crooners, you start this one."

Everybody nodded, and Rachel hit the play button just as Finn nodded to Sam, who quickly jumped onto a table.

 _Come on everybody gather round_

 _I'm gonna show you how to knock em down_

 _When I'm on the ball I'm number one_

Quinn cut him off, standing in front of the table with a spin.

 _And I'm gonna show you how it's done_

The rest of the Glee Club sang the next verse.

 _Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock n roll_

 _Hey come on, let's get this show on the road_

 _Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock n roll_

Rachel, Kurt, and Santana shimmied together as they sang the next line.

 _You're sittin' on a bomb that's about to exploooode._

(Sam and Finn) _We're gonna score tonight_

(Rachel and Tina) _We're gonna sco-o-ore toni-ight_

(Puck and Mike) _If you're lookin for a fight_

(Brittany and Kurt) _And the time is right_

(Santana and Finn) _We're gonna wipe the floor with you tonight_

Everybody gathered around the table and sang the chorus.

 _We're gonna sco-o-rre tonight_

 _We're gonna sco-o-ore toni-ight_

 _We're gonna rock, we're gonna roll_

 _We're gonna bop, we're gonna bowl_

 _We're gonna score score score score score_

 _Tonight_

The rest of the bowlers began to clap along to the music as the New Directions danced around, Brittany and Mike free styling some more complicated choreography. Finn led out a high pitched but soulful yell as he slid down one of the lanes and turned back to the others to take on the next verse.

 _So, hey, Rachel Berry, take a look over here_

 _I'm your kingpin honey and I'm getting in gear!_

Rachel tried not to laugh at how ridiculous Finn looked while trying to act like a slick Johnny Nogerelli as she sang back. Memories of the first time they'd gone bowling together flashed though her mind and made her smile brighter.

 _Hey, Fin_ _n_ _Hudson, go for that strike,_

 _And I just might be your baby tonight._

The others joined in for the chorus again.

 _Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock-'n-roll._

 _Hey, come on, let's get the show on the road._

 _Let's bowl, let's bowl, let's rock-'n-roll._

The girls known as the Unholy Trinity jumped onto a table and belted out the next line.

 _Cause the stakes are high, and the winner takes all!_

While most of the people in the alley were paying attention to the New Directions, nobody noticed the door opening to let in one more bowler.

Blaine stood by the door when he saw that the New Directions were doing another number. One of these days he was going to catch one of them from the beginning, he swore to himself as he started to make his way further inside. He froze, however, when he saw one Kurt Hummel lift himself onto a table and shimmy and shake in a way that Michele Pfieffer could have never pulled off. It didn't help Blaine's case – which was already hopeless – that Kurt had apparently spray painted on the tightest, sexiest pair of black pants he'd found, and his bowling shirt stretched in all the right places, showing off muscles that (if the show choir competition videos form last year were to be believed) Kurt had managed to gain over the summer.

"I need some air," Blaine said to no one before stepping back outside.

* * *

"Sorry ladies, but the crowd has spoken," Puck popped the collar on his shirt amidst cheers for the Crooning Titans.

"Fold your collar back up, Puckerman, you look like idiot," Quinn drawled, stuffing her bowling ball in its bag and changing her shoes. Puck looked sour, but folded his collar back anyway.

"Whipped much?" Kurt mumbled.

"Jealous much?" Puck countered.

"Seriously?" Kurt crossed his arms and raised a brow as they all made their way toward the entrance, "I wouldn't be jealous of you if you were crawling behind the winner of the Miss Universe pageant."

"Yeah, well I couldn't be jealous of you if you kissed every guy in this place."

"What? How does that even make sense?"

"What? You think I would be?"

"What does is matter? I'd kiss whoever I wanted to kiss no matter what you think."

"Then what's stopping you?"

"Okay, really, Puckerman? This is getting ridiculous."

"You're the one who said you could kiss whoever! Why don't you? Why not just kiss the next person who walks in here? Go ahead. I dare you!"

Finn tensed, knowing that Kurt was the last person to step down on a dare. In the last year or so, his brother had become fearless to a point where Finn was often found pulling at his hair in worry.

"Dude. Leave him alone." Finn put a hand on Puck's shoulder, gripping a little tighter than he should have.

"No, no," Kurt held up a finger, "If he wants to dare me then I'll take the dare. I'll kiss the next person that walks through that door," he turned back to Puck, "If I do it, you stop trying to get back in my pants. If I don't, I have to kiss you."

"Kurt," Finn put his arm around Kurt and turned him around, "Are you sure you want to do this? What if the next person who walks in is some huge homophobe and he punches you in the face or something?"

"Then my big brother can step in with his friends and beat the crap out of him. Come on. This is my chance to get Puck to lay off. Stop freaking out."

Finn sighed and let go of Kurt's shoulders. If Kurt stepped out of this with a black eye, at least he'd never have to listen to Puck come up with schemes to seduce his brother ever again.

"Alright fine. But if I end up in jail because somebody tried to hurt you, you're bailing me out," said Finn.

"Of course, big brother." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Looks like your victim just walked in, Hummel," Santana motioned toward the door.

"Oh ho," Mercedes laughed, "This should be good."

Kurt smirked. This was too easy.

* * *

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you guys came to the bowling alley," Blaine mumbled to himself, rehearsing what to say while pacing back and forth in front of an all too familiar black Navigator, "Yeah, I've been bowling before with some kids from Dalton. I had the best score...No! That sounds like I'm bragging. Ugh...why am I so bad at talking?"

A couple that he recognized from McKinley walked past him and gave him a strange look.

"Okay, okay. This is ridiculous. Just go in there, find Sugar and Joe, and if you bump into Kurt just say hello and DON'T blush..." Blaine sighed and rested his back against a nearby car, "That is way easier said then done."

He took one last deep breath, straightened the dark green bow tie that he had paired with a gray dress shirt and green cardigan, and walked through the door.

He didn't have to keep thinking about what to say to Kurt, because after taking two steps through the door, said Troubletone's lips came crashing down onto his. Kurt pulled away with a smack less than two seconds later, with Blaine being so stunned that he hadn't had time to respond to the kiss. He was left rooted to the spot, his hands raised slightly as if his body had acted on its own and tried to reach up to grab Kurt by the arms or waist. He quickly dropped his arms to his sides and blushed at the sight of the Troubletones clapping and catcalling, while the Crooners were a mix of whistling, embarrassment (Finn), and shock (Puck). From the corner of his eye, Blaine saw Mike Chang pass a folded up bill to Artie Abrams with a sigh of defeat.

Kurt strutted back to his friends and threw his jacket over his arms with a smirk, "I'm starving. Let's eat."

"Pizza?" asked Jake.

"You don't get a vote until you get a jacket, kid," said Puck, to which Jake rolled his eyes before following the rest of the New Directions out the door.

"Sorry about them," the girl behind the counter said, "They get a little rowdy sometimes, but they've all got premium memberships so they can get away with doing pretty much anything."

"Like flash mobs halfway through the game?" asked Blaine, going toward the counter, "A pair of size 8s, please."

"It's their tie breaker, and they tie half the time. I'm Marley, by the way."

"I'm Blaine. Anderson. Do you go to McKinley? I don't think I've seen you before."

"I'm just a sophomore, but I went to a different school last year. And I don't really stick out much at school," she shrugged with a shy smile. Blaine looked at her eyes and realized that there was a very familiar sadness in them.

"Oh, well, I'm a junior, but I just moved here, too. I used to go to Dalton in Westerville but..." _But my parents divorced and I couldn't leave my mom by herself during the week._

"It's okay." said Marley, picking up on the way his body had tensed, "Whatever reason you have for moving here is none of my business."

"Thanks."

"You know, most people are starting to filter out. You can borrow the shoes free of charge. I have to close up soon anyway."

Blaine sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his lips still tingling from the kiss a few minutes ago.

"Do you mind if I just hang out? I could help you sort the shoes or something. I'm suddenly not in the mood for a crowd, but if I go home my mom will start freaking out at my being back so soon."

"Sure. But you don't have to help me. Having company while I do this is enough. Usually it's just me."

"Well, that's too bad," said Blaine, walking over to her side of the counter and removing his cardigan, "Because I insist."

Marley let out something that was almost a laugh and thanked him, handing him a piece of paper with numbers on it and indicating the boxes he had to fill out every time a pair of shoes was returned.

"So, do the New Directions come in here every Friday?"

"Why? Are you hoping Kurt Hummel will kiss you again next week?" Marley joked.

Blaine blushed. Again. "No."

Marley actually laughed this time, and it was a bright, bubbly laugh that left her mouth wide open and crinkled her eye, "Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too," she nudged his side with her elbow.

"You should laugh more often, Marley. It looks good on you." he smiled at her, making her blush this time, "But I feel obligated to know that I mean that in the most platonic, very much homosexual way."

Marley giggled in a quieter way this time, but still highly amused, "I figured after you almost stopped breathing earlier from Kurt's kiss. I still can't believe he did that. Apparently before he dated Noah Puckerman, he was this angelic little baby who had never been kissed by anybody and wouldn't dare do more than flutter his eyelashes at any guy he might like."

"Maybe dating the resident badboy changed him."

"That and being popular. Although I can't complain, I guess. The popular kids at my old school gave swirlies and threw eggs at people and locked you in janitorial closets."

"As opposed to these guys, who go around assaulting people with dance moves and sloppy kisses."

"Was it?"

"Was it what?"

"Sloppy," Marley giggled again.

"Ha. Ha."

"Hey! You're the one who said I should laugh more."

"I'm glad my suffering is doing some good in this world," Blaine scoffed.

"You seem like a lot of fun, Blaine."

"Yeah, that's why I'm so extremely popular," said Blaine sarcastically.

"I'm serious! You're just shy."

"So are you," Blaine pointed out.

"Maybe that's why we're getting along so well."

They spent the next two hours talking about school, their teachers, what their old schools used to be like (Blaine left out the story of his first high school), what it was like for Blaine growing up with a very vain older brother, what it was like for Marley growing up as an only child, and even about the divorce that had happened between Blaine's parents. Marley encouraged him to talk about it, telling him about how her dad had walked out a long time ago, to the point where she couldn't remember his voice and she hardly remembered his face, and she and her mom had been working hard ever since.

"What does your mom do?" Blaine asked as the last of the bowlers turned in their shoes and left.

"Oh...she, um...she works for the school district," said Marley as she walked toward the front door with the keys in her hand.

"Cool. My mom's a real estate agent."

"What about your dad?"

"He's a pediatrician."

"That must have been fun growing up."

"Well, we could never get out of our shots, that's for sure."

"You know, you don't have to help me clean up." Marley said as Blaine followed her to the back of the alley and pulled a broom and dustpan from the cleaning closet.

"Are you kidding? There are trays and cups everywhere. The faster we finish the faster I can get you home."

"You have a car?" asked Marley, looking out into what she thought was an empty parking lot. Maybe she hadn't noticed his car before.

"Well, no. But you shouldn't be out by yourself at eleven o'clock, much less at whatever time you get finished with cleaning up, even if you have a bike. I'll walk with you."

"You don't have to do that, my house is just three streets down."

"What? Don't tell me you live on Parkway?"

"Yeah, do you know it?"

"I live there!"

"Really?" asked Marley, "Oh my gosh! My mom _did_ tell me about some new neighbors moving in down the street. You're in that big yellow house, right?"

"Yeah, that's us."

"I live across the street, about three houses before yours. The one with the garden gnomes out front."

"And that really cool polka dotted ceramic mushroom? I love that thing! I've been trying to find one all over Lima."

"You won't," said Marley with a slight blush, "I made it."

"You made the giant mushroom house for your gnomes?!"

Marley laughed, grabbing an array of spray bottles and cleaning towels and walking toward the snack bar, "You're the only person who has ever been this excited about my ceramic skills."

"Hey, it's a cool looking mushroom! Did you paint it too?"

"Yeah."

"Very cool." said Blaine, circling the snack bar area when his eyes caught something large under a white tarp in the corner, "Is that a piano?"

"Yeah. Nobody really plays it, though. The New Directions always sing to tracks and the other kids just play music on the speakers."

"May I?"

"Sure."

Blaine pulled down the tarp and sat on the piano bench that had been pushed underneath. At first his hands played a few random keys while Marley wiped down the counter. He'd gone the entire summer without playing. The piano didn't fit in the new house, so it had ended up staying with his dad. Soon enough he'd gotten the feel of the keys once again, and began to play one of his mom's favorite songs.

For a while the music from the piano was all that sounded, until a voice started to softly sing along to the words that Blaine had learned by heart a long time ago.

 _I've seen all the movie stars_

 _In their fancy cars and their limousines_

 _Been high in the Rockys under the evergreens_

 _I know what I'm needin'_

 _And I don't want to waste more time_

 _I'm in a New York state of mind_

Marley seemed to remember herself and blushed, but Blaine nodded at her.

"Keep going," he smiled encouragingly. When she started again, it was a bit louder.

 _It was so easy livin' day by day_

 _Out of touch with the rhythm and the blues_

 _But now I need a little give and take_

 _The New York Times, the Daily News_

 _It comes down to reality_

 _And it's fine with me cause I've let it slide_

 _I don't care if it's Chinatown or on Riverside_

 _I don't have any reasons_

 _I left them all behind_

 _I'm in a New York state of mind_

 _Oh yeah._

"Marley," Blaine's eyes widened, "You're amazing! Have you signed up for the New Directions?"

Marley shook her head, "I don't know. I mean, I do want to be a singer...I just..I mean, that is what I want to do, I guess."

"Then why would you not audition for a show choir that's won nationals two times in a row?"

"I don't know," she sighed, "It's just...they're all so...so...cool I guess."

"From what I've heard, they weren't always that cool. Not all of them, anyway. And you have an amazing voice. They'd be idiots not to take you in."

"I'll think about it. Your playing was really good, too."

"Thanks, but don't try changing the subject. The sign up sheets for Glee Club are already up, and auditions are next week. If you don't write your name on one of those, so help me God, I will do it for you."

Marley smiled in a way that let Blaine know he'd won this argument, "I'll try out if you play piano for me."

"Don't the New Directions have their own pianist and a whole band?"

"Yeah, but he never seems to be around anywhere except for when the New Directions are going to do a number. I wouldn't know where to go look for him. And having friendly face there would help."

"Alright. Give me your number, and we can exchange ideas over the weekend for what song you can do. And then we'll practice it a couple times before your audition, alright?"

Blaine walked Marley home an hour later, promising to text her if he came up with any songs she could do, and walked the few meters down the street to get to his own house. The living room light was on, as well as the kitchen light, and an all too familiar car was in the driveway. Blaine frowned as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"Mom? Hello? Uh...dad?"

"Hey, kiddo. We were starting to worry. Since when do you stay out past midnight?" John Anderson smiled at his youngest son, standing from the couch where he'd been watching CSI reruns.

"Um, I was walking a friend home from her job. What are you doing here, dad?"

"He came to drop off a gift for you. How was the bowling alley? Did you make any new friends?" said Pam, coming into the room with two sodas in her hands. Had his very much divorced parents been watching TV and drinking soft drinks together? What the hell was going on?

"Yeah, I made one, actually. Her name's Marley, she works at the bowling alley and she lives down the street."

"That's great sweetie! Maybe you can give her a ride next time."

"Um...do piggy back rides count?"

"About that," said Blaine's dad, "That gift I've been sitting here for three hours waiting up to give you...it's white and shiny and sitting in the driveway."

Blaine blinked twice as his dad held up the keys to his Mazda.

"What?"

"Well, I got a bonus at the hospital last month and I used it to buy a new car last week. Your mom and I talked about it, and we agreed that since you've already got a learner's permit and you'll be getting your license next month..."

" _And_ you've proven to be a very responsible driver..." Pam cut in, and it almost tricked Blaine's mind into thinking that things were back to normal and his parents were finishing each other's sentences over Friday night dinner.

"We figured that it was time you had a car of your own. So, the Mazda is yours. I've already put it under your name. I'll cover your insurance bill. Here's your keys."

"Wow. I...I don't know what to say," said Blaine, looking down at his shoes.

"Look, bud," his dad put a hand on his shoulder, "I know it's been a rough last few months for you. Your mom and I...we've been heading down this road for a while. And we made a good call in ending things _before_ we could grow to resent or hate each other. But for you I know it was all very fast, and I'm sorry that we dragged you into our problems. But you know that no matter what, I'm still just as much your dad as I was when we were living under the same roof, right?"

"Of course," Blaine answered, "I know you guys still love me the same. I just...everything changed and I just kind of freaked out, I guess. I'm sorry I haven't been to see you. I promise I'll go visit next weekend, okay? I kind of promised Marley I would lend her my piano playing abilities this week."

"No problem, squirt." Mr. Anderson ruffled his son's hair, earning protests from Blaine, "I'm glad your making new friends. Just don't forget your old ones. I keep running into Allan Smythe's son almost every weekend and he always asks about you. I think he misses having you as a roommate. He said he was stuck with some guy named Niff this year."

Blaine laughed, "Oh, poor guy. Niff is Jeff and Nick. He probably got stuck with one of them, but those two are joined at the hip most of the time, and they never stop talking. Like ever. Which is probably a big change from having a roommate who can go all day without saying more than twenty words."

"I'm pretty sure you said more than twenty words just now," said Pam.

"Well, yeah, with you guys. But with other people my conversation skills aren't really the best."

"You just haven't found a group you're completely comfortable with yet, honey. Besides, knowing how to listen speaks volumes more than knowing how to spin up a bunch of fancy words," Pam smiled at her son.

"Thanks, Mom. Dad, do you need a ride home?"

"No, no. I'm calling a cab and staying with your Aunt Laura here in Lima. I wouldn't dream of asking you to drive all the way to Westerville at this hour. And they're short staffed at Lima General, so my boss asked me to go in tomorrow. I wasn't going to bring you the car until tomorrow afternoon, but I'll probably be pulling a 36 hour shift tomorrow morning."

"I'll call the a cab," said Pam.

"I'll wait up with him, Mom. You can go to bed if you want."

"Thanks, sweetie. I'll make the call and leave you two to catch up."

Twenty minutes later, Blaine said goodbye to his dad and went upstairs, his night ending considerably better than he'd thought it would. The cutest guy in school had kissed him (albeit on a dare or bet of some kind), he'd made a new friend who was just as shy and slightly nerdy as he was, he had a nice car, and a lot of the tension that had made a home between him and his dad had ebbed away with a short conversation. All in all, it was a good start to his first weekend at McKinley High School.


	3. Don't Encourage the Techies

**Time for a new chapter! Hope you guys are enjoying this story. I certainly enjoyed writing it. It's probably the fastest I've ever written a fanfic.  
**

 **Songs featured in this chapter are Chasing Pavements and You Can't Stop the Beat, both Glee versions, of course :)**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own Glee, but that is a good thing, otherwise it wouldn't be nearly as good as it is.**

* * *

"Jake Puckerman, you're up!" Mr. Schuester called through his microphone at the director's desk. He was watching today's Glee Club auditions with Finn and Rachel on one side and Kurt and Sam on the other.

"Shouldn't Puck be here?" asked Sam.

"I sent him on an errand," said Mr. Schue, "Figured he'd make faces or something at Jake to psych him out."

"Good call."

Backstage, Jake Puckerman took a deep breath, his eyes traveling across the stage to the other side where Marley was standing. Jake smiled, and Marley blushed brighter than Blaine had seen her blush all week.

"Smile back, doe eyes." Blaine nudged her lightly in the ribs.

Marley swallowed and smiled tightly, mouthing 'Good luck' as Jake walked out onto the stage.

"Smooth, very smooth."

"Shut up," said Marley, "At least _I_ can look him in the eyes instead of staring at his butt all day."

"I do not stare at Kurt's butt all day."

"Who said anything about Kurt?" Marley teased.

"Keep making fun of me and you'll have to ask Brad the Piano Man to play Adele for you."

"Alirght, alright, I'll behave," she said.

They stood in comfortable silence, as they often did, until Jake reached the last verse of his song.

"Oh God. Now I'm even more nervous. Is my hair okay? Should I have worn a different dress?"

"You look fine and your outfit is great." Blaine assured, "And even if it wasn't, all they're going to be focusing on is your voice. And your voice is amazing, Miss Marley Rose."

"Thanks, Mr. Blaine Anderson. I still wish you'd audition, too."

"I'm not much of a singer," Blaine lied with a shrug, "Not to mention: stage fright. Now get out there and show the New Directions who their newest star is."

"Marley Rose!"

"You're up," Blaine smiled, going over to the piano backstage and preparing to play.

"Um, hi...I'm Marley...But you already knew that, obviously...So, this song is by Adele. It's called Chasing Pavements."

From backstage Blaine heard Kurt say "I love this one."

The New Directions sat up a little straighter, and Marley nodded at Blaine to start playing.

 _I've made up my mind_

 _Don't need to think it over_

 _If I'm wrong I am right._

 _Don't need to look no further._

 _This ain't lust_

 _I know this is love_

 _But_

 _If I tell the world_

 _I'll never say enough_

 _Cause it was not said to you_

 _And that's exactly what I need to do_

 _If I end up with you_

 _Should I give up?_

 _Or should I just keep chasing pavements?_

 _Even if it leads nowhere_

 _Would it be a waste_

 _Even if I knew my place_

 _Should I leave it there_

 _Should I give up_

 _or should I just keep chasing pavements?_

 _Even if it leads nowhere_

"Cut, please," Mr. Schuester spoke gently but loud enough to speak over the music. Blaine and the rest of the band stopped playing, "That's all the time we have for today, Marley, but we've got a good idea of your abilities. We'll be posting the list of new members on Friday on the student bulletin and outside the choir room. Thank you."

"Thank you," Marley smiled sweetly and walked back over to Blaine as the band and the New Directions began to file out.

"That was great," Blaine said quietly so the others wouldn't listen in and gave Marley a quick hug.

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so. And I also know that Rachel Berry let out a little tear about halfway. They were all mesmerized. You're totally going to get in."

"I _still_ wish you could join, too. Can you imagine _us_ in those jackets? Me a Troubletone and you a Crooner."

"We'd give every duo in there a run for their money," Blaine winked, "Hey, I'm proud of you for doing this. I know you were really nervous about it, but you did great."

"Maybe it's your turn to be brave," Marley whispered, her eyes flicking toward the costume rack a few feet away, where the only remaining Glee member was looking throw a plastic bin and mumbling to himself, "Go talk to him, Blaine!"

"Are you insane?" Blaine whispered back.

"Just say hi. Tell him you like his singing. Or his shirt. Or ask him if he's up for getting coffee at the Lima Bean. Or, really, just say hi. I did something scary today. Now it's your turn."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope. Especially since I know that you've been dying to talk to him since the first day of school, and that you've imagined about fifty different ways to approach him by now. GO. Right now. Otherwise you'll never do it. I'll see you later. We're still on for hot dogs at the alley right?"

"Yeah. Okay. And yes, hot dogs are still on."

"Bye, Blaine," Marley smiled mischievously.

Blaine sighed, straightened his bow tie like he always did to calm his nerves, and walked over to the costume racks.

"Um...hi...Do you need help finding...whatever it is?" asked Blaine.

Kurt straightened and looked Blaine up and down, making him feel very self conscious, "Nope. Found it. I knew Satan was hiding my ascots somewhere."

Blaine looked down at the brown ascot in Kurt's hand, then back at Kurt in confusion, "Um...I'm guessing Satan is somebody's nickname and not Lucifer?"

"Santana," Kurt said distractedly, stuffing the cloth into his bag when Mercedes called his name from the auditorium entrance, "Anyway. Gotta go."

"Wait," Blaine said loudly. Actually, it was a normal volume, but he was usually so soft spoken at school that he even made himself wince, "Um...are you free this afternoon?"

"I'm free every afternoon." Kurt smirked, "It's in the constitution."

Blaine blushed at the wink the taller boy sent his way, "Oh...um...no, I meant...do you have plans?"

"I know what you meant, kid, I was just messing with you."

"Oh...right. Well. I was wondering if...maybe you...would like to go get coffee."

"Sorry. Busy," he motioned toward Mercedes, who had now been joined by Rachel, and began walking. But Blaine was on a roll here. He was pretty sure this was the most amount of words he'd ever strung together in succession in front of another boy in the past ten years, except for maybe Sebastian.

"Well...what about tomorrow then?"

"Busy then too."

"Well maybe you could at least explain what the hell that was at the bowling alley," Blaine huffed. Woah. Where did that come from? In all his life he wasn't sure he'd ever snapped at anybody, or spoken so many words this loudly to anyone who wasn't direct family. It felt slightly liberating. "I mean, you can't just go up to a guy and kiss him out of nowhere."

"Look it was just a joke, okay? Forget it." said Kurt, picking up various text books that had been sitting on one of the auditorium chairs.

"Let me help you with those." said Blaine, the gentleman in him speaking despite his bristled temper.

"I can carry my own books, thank you."

"I'm just trying to help," Blaine's voice was back to the small, soft spoken tone he always used.

"I said I can do it."

"Come on, Kurt, he's just trying to be nice," said Rachel.

"I think he's kind of cute," said Mercedes.

"I think you two should stop talking now." Kurt snapped, walking away.

"You forgot one!" Blaine called, holding out the blue textbook that had fallen in between two seats.

Kurt sighed and turned back to take the book like it had greatly offended him. Mercedes and Rachel pushed their hands against their mouths and walked off to giggle somewhere else. Blaine held out the book, but didn't let go when Kurt grabbed it.

"What about the day after tomorrow?"

Kurt sighed apologetically, "Look, Anderson, this whole crush thing was cute the first couple of days. And I'll admit, it's nice knowing that someone other than Puckerman appreciates my ass in these pants. But you're just not my type."

"You have a type?"

"Yes, I have a type. And it's not you."

"Then what kind of guy _is_ your type? Some rude, dickheaded tough guy with a motorcycle?"

"No. A nice, level headed tough guy with a motorcycle. In the words of Michele Pfieffer..no ordinary boy is going to do...and hell on wheels...and cool...and if it takes forever, then I'll wait forever...and well, you get the picture."

"I'm starting to, yeah."

* * *

"So, my boss wants to hire an extra hand on weekends." said Marley, plopping her lunch tray on the table next to Blaine's, "And I know you've been looking for a job. And you've already been helping me with the clean up at closing time. What do you say? You want to be work buddies?"

"Are you kidding? Getting to sort stinky shoes AND getting paid? Sign me up." said Blaine, taking a large slurp of his milk.

Marley rolled her eyes but smiled back, "I had a feeling you'd say yes. We start tonight."

They were quiet for a while, until a few minutes later when Finn, Rachel, Quinn, Puck, and Kurt walked past their table.

"What do you think about motorcycles?" Blaine asked suddenly.

"Um...they're loud and dangerous? You're not going to try and turn yourself into another Puckerman, are you?"

Blaine laughed and shook his head, "No. No. You're right. What was I thinking? Speaking of the Puckermans, isn't the list of new Glee Club members supposed to be up today?"

"I've been too scared to look," Marley admitted.

"Well, hurry up and eat, and then we'll go look together."

"Okay," she answered, biting her lip nervously.

"Relax," Blaine bumped his shoulder against hers, "You were incredible. You made Rachel Berry cry. You're going to get in. You'll be ignoring me and wearing a black and red jacket before you know it."

"I'm not going to ignore you if I get in," said Marley, finishing off her pudding cup, "You're the only person who doesn't make me feel invisible."

"Well the days of Marley the Invisible Woman are over for good," said Blaine, standing up with his lunch tray as soon as Marley was ready to go, "Get ready for Marley the Troubletone. Shall we?"

"Let's get this over with."

Blaine held out his arm and Marley linked her own through it.

Blaine turned back to the New Directions' table as they made their way out of the cafeteria. Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson were watching Marley closely with smiles on their faces.

"Remember to breathe," Blaine squeezed Marley's arm as they got closer to the bulletin board near the choir room.

"Right, sorry." Marley inhaled. When they approached the board, she turned away, "I can't look. I can't do it."

"Do you want me to read you the list?"

"Yes," she answered in a small voice.

"Okay. 'Approved members of the New Directions: Rory Flannigan, Jake Puckerman, Joe Hart, and - "

"MARLEY ROSE!"

Marley and Blaine jumped and turned to look down the hall. Rachel, Finn, Sam, Kurt, Quinn, and Mercedes were standing a few feet away with Mr. Schuester, bright smiles on their faces as they clapped for Marley.

"You'll have to go change your schedule to add choir first period," said Mr. Schuester, "But as of today, you are officially a member of the New Directions."

"Finn and I are the lead singers on the New Directions," said Rachel, "And I want you to know that you can come to us for any advice on how to better your performances."

"Unless you need advise on dancing," Santana appeared with Brittany, "In that case you'd be better off asking an aardvark for advise."

"But really, anything you or the other new recruits need, we're here," said Mr. Schuester, "The New Directions always have each others' backs no matter what."

"Now," said Tina, holding up a white shopping bag, "As the New Directions' official costume department heads, Mercedes and I are proud to present you with your own official New Directions Letterman Jacket."

Blaine watched with pride as Marley's jaw dropped and she held out a shaky hand to take the bag and reveal a red and black jacket.

"It doesn't say anything on the back yet," said Mercedes, "This jacket makes you a member of the glee club, but Kurt is the only one who can decide if you become a Troubletone or not. There's no test or anything, but being a Trouble means upholding a code. The same goes for being a Crooner. Once Kurt decides that you can uphold that code, you get to become a Troubletone."

"I...wow," Marley stammered, "This is...wow."

The New Directions continued to compete for Marley's attention, so Blaine figured he would let her enjoy the lime light. She deserved it. He walked off, humming Cool Rider to himself. He had looked it up after Kurt had mentioned Michele Pfieffer's dream guy. Sure enough, Blaine was far from being Kurt's dream. But if a strung up Michael Carrington had managed to do it, maybe he could, too.

"Hey! Dude! Wait up! Hey! You in the cardigan!"

Blaine turned around. He hadn't thought that anybody would be calling after him, but he was the only guy in school who even wore cardigans aside from a few teachers. Sam Evans was walking down the hall toward him.

"You're Blaine, right?"

"Uh...yeah."

"Sam Evans," the blond held out a hand which Blaine shook, "Listen, you're like a total whiz right?"

"Um...I guess."

"And you're really good with like computers and stuff right?"

"Um, I guess."

"Great! Because I'm the only one in Glee club that knows how to work the auditorium lights, and none of the other teachers want to help us with it and Mr. Schue is already working sound for the play. Do you think you could learn the ropes fast enough? I'll even pay you for it, we really need a techy."

Blaine's heart sped up at the thought of the play. Kurt was helping with production as part of the glee club, and he would probably have a part of his own, too.

"You don't have to pay me anything. I'll do it. Except Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have lacrosse after school."

"For real?! I gotta give you something in return, though."

"Um..." Blaine looked down the hall to make sure nobody was eavesdropping, "There might be one thing."

"Oh. Dude. Sorry. I really don't swing that way. I mean it's no problem if _you_ do, but..."

"What? Oh, no!" Blaine turned red and stammered, "That's not. No. I mean...you're an attractive individual but...I didn't mean...that's not what I...I mean, I _am_ gay, but..."

"But you're also over the moon for Kurt Hummel?" Sam smiled.

"What? I...No!" Blaine didn't think he could turn any redder.

"Dude. Chill," Sam threw an arm over Blaine's shoulders, "So you have a crush on a guy, it's not news around here. Nobody's going to throw a slushie at you or dunk your head in the toilet or beat you up."

Blaine managed not to openly cringe at that, but he did have to swallow down a lump in his throat at the thought.

"What's that favor you want, then?" Sam asked.

"Um...well, you have a motorcycle, right?"

"Yes, I do. I don't ride it to school much, though."

"I know," Blaine said, "But I was thinking of getting one and...I don't really know how to ride a motorcycle so..."

"You want motorcycle lessons?" asked Sam, a knowing glint in his eye, "I'll do it if you promise not to act like a Puckerman."

Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes, "There are plenty of guys who ride motorcycles that are _not_ total Puckermans."

"I like to count myself as one of those guys. Alright, you got it, Smart Kid. Motorcycle lessons in exchange for you turning into the Grease tech slave from now until November."

"Sounds like a plan."

"First production meeting is today after school, backstage of the auditorium. Don't be late and please try to keep the sexual tension between you and Kurt to a minimum. I have no desire to deal with a pissy Noah Puckerman."

"There's no sexual tension between us. I just look at him like a lovesick kicked puppy and he pretends I don't exist because he's not interested."

"Don't settle yourself short," said Sam as the bell for next period rang, "Gotta go. See you later."

"Yeah, see you."

* * *

"Hey, Blaine."

"Hi, Tina."

"Mr. Anderson, I didn't know you'd be joining us," said Mr. Schuester.

"I'm not late, am I?" asked Blaine, clutching the strap of his sports bag a little tighter and noticing how many of the New Direcitons were already here.

"Not at all. Take a seat."

"Blaine agreed to be our lights guy, Mr. Schue," said Sam, going over from where he was talking to Mike and patting Blaine on the back.

"Oh! That's great. Thank you so much, Blaine. You can have a seat anywhere. Back here that usually means grabbing a crate or something since there aren't enough chairs." said Mr. Schuester.

Before Blaine could take more than two steps to look for a seat, he was faced with a very close amount of Rachel Berry.

"Hi, I'm Rachel Berry. You can call me Rachel or Miss Berry. And that girl over there by the costumes is Quinn. She'll be playing Sandy."

"Auditions aren't until next week, Rachel," said Mr. Schue without skipping a beat or looking up from the production folder he was organizing.

"Like I said, Quinn will be Sandy," Rachel said pointedly, "And the boys have decided on Puck for Danny. When we do blocking I would really like to talk to you about light filters. Quinn's complexion needs to look the absolute best, so we've got to find the right cool filters for her and make sure that light hits at exactly the right angle. For me that's fifty-two degrees, but Quinn is taller and her facial structure is different meaning that shadows will hit her differently. I was thinking somewhere around sixty-five to sixty-seven."

"Rachel, I know I asked you to take one for the team so that we could win Sectionals," said Quinn lightly, grabbing Rachel by the elbow and turning her away from Blaine, "But making demands for me is not the right way to experience playing Sandy vicariously through me, okay? I'm sure that Sam will teach Blaine which lights to use during blocking."

"But...but..."

"Is that where you stuck your broomstick, Berry?"

Kurt's voice made Blaine turn around quickly, only to stop himself from gasping.

"Kurt! What happened!" Rachel exclaimed, pulling out her phone and momentarily forgetting the insult, "I'm calling Finn."

"Marley," Blaine rushed toward his best (read: only) friend, "Are you okay? What happened to you guys?"

Kurt and Marley were covered from their hair down to their shoes in something purple and sticky.

"Carmel High," Kurt spat, looking down at his white skinny jeans and blue coat, "These were my favorite pants."

 _They were mine, too_ , Blaine thought before turning back to Marley, "I've got a towel in my Lacrosse bag. Let's get you dry."

Blaine walked with Marley to the make up dresser that was against one of the walls and they sat on two wooden crates.

"You can grab anything off these racks," said Mr. Schuester, "I'm going to go talk to Principal Figgins, and try to get in contact with Carmel's principal."

"She won't do anything because it was off their campus," said Kurt, rummaging through Sam's sports bag in hopes of finding a towel.

"It'll be like that time with the eggs," said Rachel. Blaine was curious, but he was more worried about Marley as he helped her dry off. He hadn't seen her look this sad since the day he met her. Since then her eyes had been a bit brighter due in part to Blaine's constant jokes and the easy manner in which they got along, and in part because she was now a member of the New Directions.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Blaine asked in a low voice, "You know you can tell me anything."

"I'm fine," she shrugged, running the towel through her hair, "At least we weren't wearing our jackets. But my skirt is probably ruined forever."

"I might be able to get the stain out. Come on, let's find you something else to wear," he stood and held out a hand to help her up. Before walking toward the clothing racks, he dropped his voice again and looked her in the eyes, "And don't think for a second that I bought that about you being fine. I know that look. I've had that look. We're going to talk about this later and we're going to figure it out. Together."

Marley's lips slightly turned up at the corners at that, "You're amazing, did you know that?"

"I'm not. I'm just your friend. But thanks for thinking so highly of me. Come on. Size four?"

"How did you even know that?"

"I didn't. Wild guess."

Finn came in just as Marley had chosen a change of clothes. She and Kurt gave their full account of what had happened. Marley had been coming out of the cafeteria when Kurt ran into her. She accompanied him to his car to grab the portfolio of costume designs Kurt had been working on for Tina and Mercedes when Jesse St. James had sneaked up on him with the rest of Vocal Adrenaline, who had proceeded to taunt Marley and question if she was even a good singer before dousing both of them in grape slushies.

"You guys better get changed before Puck and Jake get here. If they find out about this they'll probably drive to Columbus and bash Jesse's head in. And as much as I would like to see that, I don't want them to get suspended from school or Glee Club." said Finn, "Are you guys sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. My pants won't be," Kurt sighed.

"I'd offer to fix them but you'd probably just get mad," Blaine mumbled to himself as he held up a sheet in front of Marley so she could change in the corner. Marley was the only one close enough to hear what he said and giggled. Blaine would have smiled at her, but he had his back to her so she could change in peace.

"What was that?" Kurt asked, looking irritated.

"I didn't say anything," Blaine answered lightly, "Marley's talking to herself."

"I am not!"

"She does it all the time without noticing," Blaine shrugged.

"Hey! Don't move the sheet. You are a terrible dressing room."

"Not my fault you take so long that my arms are starting to spasm."

Sam laughed, "You guys are hilarious. Any room for a third person in your dynamic duo?"

"We wouldn't be a duo then," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah, what would we call ourselves?" asked Marley.

"We could be the Golden Trio," said Sam.

"We talked about Harry Potter references, Sam," said Kurt from between two curtains as he seemed to struggle to change his own outfit. With how tight Kurt's pants usually were, Blaine wasn't surprised.

"Besides, nothing good ever comes to mind at the sound of the word trio," said Mike.

"Okay, how about Trinity?" asked Sam.

"Nope," Quinn shook her head, "Coach Sylvester got a trademark on the use of the word Trinity at McKinley. It can only be used in reference to Christianity, or in reference to the Unholy Trinity. As in Santana, Brittany, and me."

"We could just call ourselves the Nerd Squad or something," said Marley, stepping out from behind the curtain.

"Sam's not a nerd, though."

"Okay. This is officially the stupidest conversation I have ever found myself forced to listen to," said Kurt, "Marley, please stop encouraging the techies."

"Sorry," Marley smiled in amusement as she came out from behind the makeshift towel curtain in a yellow sundress.

"Should I tell the others that the meeting is canceled?" asked Rachel, "I don't think Mr. Schuester is coming back any time soon."

"Yeah, and Blaine and I have to go get ready for work."

"You work at the bowling alley now, too? That's awesome!" said Finn.

"Yeah. Smelly shoes are great."

"And ketchup on the floor," said Marley, "Gotta love ketchup on the floor."

"My personal favorite is trying to erase scuff marks."

"That's always fun," said Marley, sticking her dirty clothes in a plastic bag, "This is going in the trash."

"I already told you I can get it out," said Blaine, "Give me the bag and I promise that by Monday you will have a perfectly clean, stain free outfit in your closet. That's the Anderson guarantee."

"You don't have to do that."

"No, but I'm still going to do it. Hand over the plastic bag."

Marley handed the bag to Blaine, and with that they walked out of the auditorium and headed home to change into their work uniforms.

* * *

"I saw what you did for Marley earlier."

Blaine forced himself not to turn around. If Kurt was sick of Blaine trialing after him, then Blaine would stop. He'd been texting with Sam this morning, who was surprisingly supportive of Blaine's attempt at trying to win over Kurt, and one of the last texts had stuck with him.

 _Kurt's into bad boys because they're a challenge. As long as you keep making gooey eyes at him, he's never going to try to look closer._

So instead of turning and trying to create conversation, Blaine continued putting away the shoes that had just been returned while Marley was busy helping with at the snack bar.

"I just gave her a towel."

"That's not all you did."

Blaine busied himself with the cash register, still not looking at Kurt, "It's what friends do. I'm sure if it had been Finn or Quinn or Rachel you would have done the same for one of them."

"Well, it was still nice," said Kurt.

Blaine finally looked up, forcing himself to look Kurt in the eyes even if it was only for half a second before he looked away to keep from blushing, "Guess I'm a nice guy."

Kurt visibly swallowed, and Blaine had to hold down a smile.

"I think your friends are getting ready for their victory number."

Kurt turned toward the lanes where the Crooners were celebrating and walked away.

"That was very smooth," Marley snickered as she approached him. She was looking a lot better than she had earlier, mostly thanks to a long talk between her and Blaine on their way to work, when they'd shared a bit over their past experiences. Marley told him about getting bullied for being "the fat lunch lady's kid" at he old school, and Blaine told her he'd gotten beaten up for being gay before transferring to Dalton.

"Don't you have a song to go sing? Jake looks like he might cry if you don't go over there soon."

"Jake Puckerman doesn't cry," Marley rolled her eyes, "I'm sure he'd be perfectly happy dancing around with Tina or something. I have to keep working."

"I'll man the counter for a while. It's not like anybody would actually leave while the New Directions are doing a number. You go. It's the first bowling alley number with the new recruits. You can't miss out."

"Thanks, Blaine. I owe you like you have no idea."

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here."

 _You can't stop an avalanche as it races down the hill_

 _You can try to stop the seasons but you know you never will..._


	4. Team Klaine and Birthday Surprises

**I've already finished writing all of this, so I'll be updating as regularly as possible. It's 8 chapters long, so this marks the halfway point!**

 **I won't tell you what the song for this one is, but it should be familiar. Also, if you decide to listen to it (or just sing along in your head like I do sometimes), I'm using the slower piano version ;)**

 **That is all for now!**

 **Disclaimer: I wrote a letter to Ryan Murphy...turns out he's not interested in selling Glee. Which means I am still not the owner. Darn.**

* * *

"I'm going to kill myself." Blaine groaned, rolling over off the ground brushing dirt off his shoulders.

"You're not going to kill yourself." said Sam, holding out his hand to help Blaine get up, "You might break a limb or two, but I'm getting you through this alive. You'll be popping wheelies and making jumps before you know it."

"I'm starting to think that no guy is worth putting myself through this. I don't even have a bike yet. I should just stick to my Mazda."

"Hey, I said I was going to teach you to ride a motorcycle and I am not giving this up. Don't just do it for yourself. Do it for Kurt. Do it for you and Kurt's future children."

"Future..." Blaine shook his head, "Why are you so invested in this?"

"You know how I've been staying at Finn and Kurt's place since my parents moved to Indiana?"

"Yeah."

"Well it turns out that underneath all the smirking and the bitchy comebacks Kurt is still that kid who got bullied and hurt one too many times. It's lucky that he broke up with Puck before he could get hurt. And you seem like the type of guy who knows how to treat somebody the way they're supposed to be treated. So I'm Team Klaine all the way."

"Team what?" Blaine laughed out loud.

"It's this thing we do in Glee Club. We've dated in so many different combinations it's starting to get hard to keep track. Everybody's Team Finchel even though they can be so dramatic and ridiculous. And I for one and team Pinn."

"Pinn?"

"Puck and Quinn. It's a work in progress. But it was better than Puckerbray."

"You're ridiculous. And didn't you date Quinn last year?"

Sam waved a hand as if to wave away Blaine's question, "It was a long time ago. And you're stalling. Get back on the bike."

Blaine huffed, but lifted Sam's motorcycle back up, ready to start it again.

* * *

Blaine had some trouble hiding the pain in his back on Monday as he walked down the hallway. He'd fallen so many times trying to lift the front wheel of Sam's bike just a few inches off the ground, that he didn't think he'd be able to turn for at least three days.

"Hey, cutie." Sugar appeared as Blaine was walking toward the nurse's office for some Ibuprofen.

"Hey, Frenchie," Blaine smiled at her, "I heard you got the part in the school play. Congratulations."

"Aw, thanks," Sugar smiled, "Listen, I'm hosting a Halloween Party at the end of the month. At Breadstix. You'll be there, right?"

"Ugh...yeah, sure. Are you inviting the New Directions?"

"Obviously. Why?"

"So I can convince Marley to go. Otherwise I don't think I'll have anyone to hang out with." Blaine admitted.

"You can hang out with me, silly!" Sugar smacked his arm playfully, "Oh, and it's masquerade. So make sure to find yourself an awesome mask, kay? I'll hand out invitations once the date is closer, but you have to be there."

"Alright, thanks Sugar."

"See you around, preppy."

Blaine continued down the hall with a smile on his face. Halloween was exactly a month away. Pretty soon he'd have enough money to buy an old motorcycle from the junk lot and start to fix it up. In all honesty, he'd never thought he would be thankful for all those summers his dad tried to make him "less gay" by showing him how to fix stuff. He still resented it, of course, even if his dad had come to accept and love him now, but this way he wouldn't have to buy a new bike. Even so, he doubted he could make enough money off his job at the bowling alley on weekend nights to have the bike ready by Halloween. But it was the perfect chance. Kurt would be there, of course, and it would be away form school. And what better day to transform yourself into something else than Halloween?

He'd have to come up with another way to make money. Something that he could do in the afternoons and evenings after rehearsals and Lacrosse practice.

* * *

"Alright guys, that's all for today!" said Mr. Schuester, "Artie, any last minute observations?"

"Quinn, during The One That I Want, you need to actually look like you want Puck. Puck, you need to stop staring at Quinn's boobs throughout the whole number. Finn, Marley, Kurt, Mercedes, and Sugar, I'm going to need you guys to come in for the next two Tuesdays with Brittany and Mike for some Grease Booty Camp. Your dancing isn't cutting it just yet."

"What's wrong with my dancing?" Kurt asked, sounding offended.

"You look like you're trying to shake away a bee," said Santana.

"Okay," Mr. Schuester clapped his hands together before things could get ugly between Kurt and Santana, "I think that's all. I will see you all tomorrow."

The New Directions began to file out in pairs or sets of three. Sam walked up to the lighting control booth and tapped on the glass, "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Um, do you think we could skip today's lesson? I kind of have some stuff I need to do. Not to mention I'm too sore to do more than walk and sit right now. But first I think I might hang out here for a while. I kind of need to think."

"About what? Kurt's ass?" Sam snickered.

Blaine's eyes widened and he looked over at the stage, but Kurt was already leaving with Mercedes.

"No. I need some extra cash. I want to have my bike ready by Halloween and I don't think the bowling alley is going to cut it. I was thinking about putting up an ad for tutoring or something."

"Dude. How do you do so much? Straight A's, AP classes, senior classes, rehearsals, Lacrosse, motorcycle lessons, the bowling alley. Do you sleep? You're not a vampire, are you?"

"No. I'm not a vampire. Although I usually function well enough with six hours of sleep instead of eight. And I guess I'm just good at managing my time."

"I still think you're a vampire. I'm going to try feeding you garlic just to make sure."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, Sam. Enjoy your lesson-free afternoon."

"Later, nerd."

Blaine turned off the computer and the controls and stepped out of the control booth into an empty auditorium. Sam wasn't completely wrong. Lately he'd been exhausted. He loved all of his classes. And despite the complaints, he loved learning how to ride a motorcycle. It wasn't just because he wanted to impress Kurt anymore. Now every time he got on Sam's motorcycle, it felt like he was free. Like he could finally outrun the things he'd been running from since his freshman year that night at Sadie Hawkins.

All his life, people had expected something of him. He was smart, and so it was expected of him to always get the best grades, to take the hardest classes, and to basically be a nerd all around. And he lived up to that. At public school, he hadn't had many friends because of that, and when he came out, the list of friends got even shorter. He was gay, so he had to dress flashy and different. He lived up to those expectations, too. He fit the bill of nerdy gay virgin to the letter, and it was starting to get old. He wanted something different. Something unexpected. Being an athlete was probably something different, but he played Lacrosse, which screamed preppy schoolboy from miles away. Besides, he'd joined the Lacrosse team at Dalton at a time when he thought his father didn't want him to be gay, when he thought that he had to prove to his dad that he wasn't just some ponce. But over that last couple of months and a few conversations and weekend visits, Blaine had realized that his dad hadn't hated having a gay son, but rather hated that his gay son had to live in a world that would try to hurt him simply for being gay. So what was the point in staying on the Lacrosse team when he'd only done it to prove a point that nobody had asked him to prove?

Blaine almost ran a hand through his hair, but he didn't want to mess it up while he was still at school. Instead, he hopped onto the stage and ran a hand over the piano that was behind the curtain before sitting in front of it. Music always helped him clear his head.

"Oh, crap. I forgot the fabric for the cheerleading skirts." said Kurt when they were halfway to the parking lot, "I'll be right back. You guys go ahead. Here, Mercedes. Take the key so we're ready to go when I get back."

Kurt ran toward the auditorium, hoping that the main entrance would still be open. Luckily the janitor hadn't been through to close it yet, and he stopped just inside to catch his breath, the door closing behind him with a soft click. He'd only just rested his hands on his knees when he registered the sound of a piano. His head snapped up and he was about to ask who was there when a voice started to accompany the music, singing a familiar song at a much slower pace than the original.

 _Before you met me, I was alright_

 _But things were kinda heavy._

 _You brought me to life_

 _Now every February_

 _You'll be my valentine_

 _Valentine._

 _Let's go all the way tonight_

 _No regrets, just love._

 _We can dance until we die_

 _You and I_

 _We'll be young forever._

 _You make me._

 _Feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

 _The way you turn me on_

 _I can't sleep_

 _Let's run away and don't ever look back_

 _Don't ever look back._

Blaine stopped the song then. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to start singing. He hadn't really done much more than hum or sing in the shower since Cooper had moved out. Growing up they used to put on little shows in the living room all the time, and perform together every Thanksgiving and Christmas for their friends and family. He'd say it was because he didn't have Cooper around to do duets with, but that was a lie. There had been Christmases and Thanksgivings and family dinners, but he'd stopped singing by himself. And he'd stopped singing with Cooper, and it all came down to one voice echoing in his head.

 _That will show you showtune singing fags to try to gay up our school._

Fourteen words had stuck with him throughout the two days in the hospital, the two weeks of bed rest, and the transfer to Dalton Academy.

He remembered how loudly they had echoed, the words flashing before his eyes that they made him feel blind, when his new roommate had introduced himself, "I'm Sebastian Smythe. Freshman. Founding member of the French Club and newest addition of the Dalton Academy Warblers. Do you sing?"

He'd nearly frozen at the question. His entire body tensing up like a scared cat before he managed to stammer, "I'm Blaine Anderson...Freshman. N-no. No, I, I don't sing."

Blaine sighed now at the memory. During the two years that they had been roommates, Blaine had confided many things in Sebastian, and vice versa. Sebastian had plenty of friends, although he insisted that Blaine was the closest and the one he trusted above anybody else. But for Blaine, Sebastian was the first friend who understood what it was like to hate yourself for who you are. He'd told Sebastian all about the bullying and the Sadie Hawkins dance and how his date had ended up with a concussion. But never once did he tell Sebastian that he could sing. Never once did he speak of that one sentence that had changed everything. That had taken something that he loved to do and turned it into something shameful, something worthy of being beaten.

"Hello?!"

Blaine jumped out of his seat, his thoughts interrupted by the familiar voice.

No. No no no no no no. Of all people who would hear him sing for the first time in years, it couldn't be Kurt Hummel.

"Who's there?!"

Blaine looked around frantically. He could hear Kurt approaching the stage. If he got close enough, he'd be able to see the piano behind the curtain, and see Blaine. The door was only a few feet away, so he made a run for it.

Kurt stepped up onto the stage to find the piano bench pushed back and the backstage door about to click shut.

"What in the hell?"

He didn't have time to run after whoever obviously didn't want to be seen. Maybe they thought they'd get in trouble for being there after hours or something. But he was going to have to keep an eye out and his ears sharp. Whoever that voice had belonged do was not in the Glee Club. He could recognize all of their voices and this one was like none he'd ever heard before. It was a beautiful voice, obviously, and with Sectionals only a month and a half away, having a voice like that would give them a serious advantage. He needed to find this mystery voice, and he needed to do it soon.

* * *

"Hey! Anderson!"

Blaine froze mid-step on the way to his locker two days after the Teenage Dream incident. He'd been waiting for this, really. If Sam had noticed how he was always staring at Kurt during rehearsals, of course it was only a matter of time before Noah Puckerman noticed it, too.

"Please don't be a purple slushie," Blaine whispered, "Please, please, don't be a purple slushie."

"Yo, relax, bro."

Blaine winced as Pucks' hand came down rather hard on his back.

"I'm not here to throw you in the dumpster. As much as I've wanted to since Kurt kissed you, I figure he's already given you enough crap about it. And if I started tossing people in the dumpster again there would be this whole intervention crap from Berry and Princess Hummel and the Unholy Trinity that I really don't want to get into. Look, I need a favor, alright?"

"Um...what sort of favor?" Blaine asked nervously.

"You wrote that poem that Mrs. D has stuck up on the wall right? The sappy one?"

Blaine blushed. It had been an assignment for English class and he'd been thinking about Kurt when he wrote it, "Yeah."

"It's Quinn's birthday next week and I want to give her something special. To make up for being a dick and getting her pregnant. But I suck at expressing feelings."

"You want me to write a poem for Quinn and pretend you wrote it?"

"I'll pay you thirty bucks. Just don't tell anybody." Puck's grip on his shoulder became tighter, "I've got a reputation as McKinley's resident badass to protect, you got it?"

"Uh, yeah. Okay. I won't say a word," Blaine promised.

"Good," Puck's grip loosened and he patted Blaine on the back again, "And, dude. Look, I'm cool with whatever feelings you have for Princess Hummel, alright? I'm over it and I'm concentrating on getting Quinn back. But you gotta stop it with the puppy eyes, man. If you want Kurt Hummel to want you, stop staring and following him around like you worship him. Kurt likes to be treated like a person, and he's a total romantic underneath. But he doesn't enjoy being stalked."

"That's basically what Sam said."

Puck let Blaine go and took a step back.

"There you go. And it might not hurt to ditch the sweater vest every now and then. You look like Mr. Schue. Keep the bow ties, though," Puck winked, "They're kinda hot."

Blaine was left blushing as usual as Puckerman walked off in the direction of the choir room. Of all the things that could have happened today of all days, getting hit on by Noah Puckerman had not been on the list. Getting hit, maybe, yeah...but not hit ON.

He walked to his locker and began to pull out his books when Marley approached him with her hands behind her back.

"Hey, Marley, what's up?"

"Heeey...Birthday boy!" Marley revealed a small red box with a colorful bow on top, "Happy Birthday!"

"Marley, you didn't have to get me anything. How did you even know it was my birthday?" Blaine smiled.

"There's this little thing on my phone called Facebook, and it tells you when your friends' birthdays are. Open it."

Blaine took the top off the box and laughed. "This is great! Thanks, Marley."

"Sam might have let slip that you're putting together a motorcycle when he and I were talking last week. Don't worry, he didn't tell anybody else." Marley crossed her arms as Blaine admired the small piano keychain, "Buuut...he figured that since you and I are, and I quote, 'joined at the hip,' that you would have at least told _me_ your big secret."

Blaine smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I just...I know you didn't really approve of me getting a motorcycle. I thought you might be mad."

Marley scoffed, "Of course I'm not mad. Well, I was a little mad that you didn't tell me. But as long as you're being safe. Motorcycles are dangerous."

"So is eating one of those burgers you made last weekend, but I did that, didn't I?" Blaine joked.

"Hey! Those burgers were fine! You just added too much mustard." Marley smacked his arm playfully.

"Hey, no hitting the birthday boy!"

"Oh, shut up," Marley laughed and took his arm as they walked toward their respective first periods.

* * *

"Blaine, there's somebody at the door for you!"

"I'm coming!" Blaine called from the garage. He cleaned the grease off his hands and looked down at the old jeans and white t-shirt he was wearing to work on his motorcycle. It was probably just Puckerman here to pick up his poem, so what did it matter if he wasn't as well dressed as usual? At least his hair was still gelled down.

"Hey, I've got you're...Kurt!" Blaine stopped in his tracks when he noticed that it was not Noah Puckerman at the door.

Kurt raised an eyebrow as he surveyed Blaine's clothes, making the junior fidget uncomfortably and wish he had bothered to ask his mom who it was.

"Um...I...I was just...changing the oil on my car," Blaine lied, "Um...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. Right." Kurt shook his head quickly, "Um...I saw your add for tutoring."

"You need a tutor?" Blaine asked disbelievingly. As far as he knew, Kurt had excellent grades. Not nearly as high as his own, but still.

"If you tell anybody about this I will end you," Kurt said seriously before sighing and resting his arm against the doorframe, "I got a C minus in Physics on my progress report. Mr. Carson said you could help me raise it."

"Um...yeah. Yeah I guess I could help you. We'd have to meet after school on days when we don't have rehearsal. Fridays are off because I have work. And weekend nights, too."

"Honey, I'm not desperate enough for an A to give up my weekend nights," Kurt rolled his eyes, "Tuesdays after school and Sundays in the early afternoon? When do you have Lacrosse?"

"I quit Lacrosse. Tuesdays and Sundays are fine." said Blaine, still feeling subconscious about his clothes, "Um...one question...how did you know where I live?"

"I was dropping off Marley from Saturday practice and she told me. I should go. See you at rehearsal, I guess."

"Um, yeah. Sure." Blaine said, putting his hand on the door to close it.

"Oh, and Blaine?" Kurt turned back around on the second step of the porch.

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday."

* * *

Blaine pulled up to the school parking lot the day before Sugar's party with his nerves completely frazzled. Today he would hopefully see Kurt during their classes, even though the Troubletone didn't sit nearby in any of them. And of course Blaine would be able to watch Kurt during rehearsal from the safety of the control room, which Blaine attempted to convince himself was not as creepy as it sounded.

"Hey, Blainers. Ready for tomorrow's party?" Sugar appeared out of seemingly nowhere, as she usually did. at this point, Blaine was hardly surprised, and would instead get worried if more than three days passed without her randomly popping up next to him as he walked.

"Yeah. I've got my costume almost ready to go. You won't even recognize me," said Blaine.

"Yay!" Sugar clapped to herself, "I can't wait. If you've never been to a Sugar Motta party, then you've never been to real party before. It's going to be amazing."

"I can't wait, either," Blaine smiled, his mind wandering to his almost finished motorcycle but still nodding and half listening to Sugar's explanation of what a Sugar Motta Party looked like.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Tina said that leather you asked her to get you is in the fabric closet backstage in the auditorium. She had to go to the doctor today otherwise she would have given it to you herself."

"No problem, I'll go get it now. See you later, Sugar."

"Bye, Blainers."

Meanwhile Kurt Hummel was glaring at the auditorium piano, now pulled out onto front and center stage facing the audience, as if it had offended him greatly. It had been a month since he'd heard the mysterious voice. There were only three weeks left until Sectionals and he hadn't gotten any closer to finding the man whom Rachel and Mercedes had dubbed "Kurt's Ariel" when he'd confided in them.

He pulled out the bench and sat, tapping a few random keys before playing the tune that had been haunting him for the past four weeks.

" _You make me_

 _Feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

 _The way you turn me on_

 _I can't sleep_

 _Let's run away and don't ever look back_

 _Don't ever look..._ Ugh!"

Kurt flung his arms onto the piano and dropped his head onto them, "Who are you?!" he groaned loudly. The next words were spoken a lot softer. "I _need_ to find you and your angelic little voice."

From a crack in the backstage entrance door, Blaine watched with wide eyes. Kurt had heard him sing Teenage Dream that day, and now he wanted to find him. Kurt was looking for Blaine. And he thought he had an angelic voice. The thought alone made his head reel and he closed the door slowly. He could come pick up the leather for his motorcycle's seat later. And tomorrow he'd be ready with a mask and motorcycle. And maybe, just maybe, if he got Kurt alone, he would sing to him.


	5. Who's That Guy?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

* * *

"Blaine, it's almost seven!" Pam rushed into the garage where Blaine was putting the leather onto his motorcycle's seat, "You're going to be late if you don't hurry! Do that tomorrow."

"I can't, Mom. This is part of the costume," Blaine explained for the thousandth time, "Did you find Cooper's old jacket?"

Pam sighed and crossed her arms, leaning on the hood of her car, "It's on your bed along with the rest it. You know you won't have time to shave."

Blaine rubbed distractedly at the stubble on his face. It had been 36 hours since he shaved yesterday before school, meaning that his fast-growing beard had already created more than a shadow on his face, "It'll be part of the biker look, I guess."

"I still wish you'd chosen a different costume."

Blaine stood from his crouch and walked over to his mom, taking her arms in his hands, "I told you I'll be fine. Sam taught me everything he knows and it's not like I'll be going around jumping over cars and popping wheelies."

He hated lying to his mom, but there was no way she would ever let him get away with what he was really doing.

"I know, I know," she waved him away with a smile, "I just worry a lot. Hurry up, okay? I don't want you to be late for the party of the year."

By the time Blaine rushed upstairs for a quick shower, it was almost eight o'clock, meaning the party at Breadstix was about to start. He pulled on a white t-shirt and the tight black jeans he found at a thrift store before looking in the mirror. His usual overly gelled look was not going to cut it, nor would it match the two day beard. He decided to work some pomade into it, flattening the sides and only taming the top of his curls. He hoped the chrome colored mask wouldn't be too much.

* * *

"Best party everrrrr," Santana slured, holding onto her girlfriend's shoulders like she might fall over. They were dressed in equally sexy red dresses and devil horns and tails, completing the look with black and red lace masks.

Quinn rolled her eyes at them, her angel's halo shaking as she moved her head from side to side. Her mask was full of tiny fake crystals and white feathers on the edges.

"Seriously? We've been here for thirty minutes and you're already drunk?" Kurt scoffed, adjusting the dark sunglasses he wore as a "mask." He'd been designing his form-sitting policeman costume for months. He wasn't going to change it because Sugar decided she wanted a theme. Sugar Motta could be a spoiled brat, but Kurt was a full diva.

"Who put your police club up your ass, Hummel? Lighten up."

"As rude as she makes it sound, I have to agree a little with Santana," said Rachel in her perfect Black Swan outfit, complete with the make up and black feather mask applied directly onto her face. She switched her untouched drink with Kurt's Sprite, "You've been stressing out for the last few weeks with the NYADA auditions and the play and Sectionals. Have a few drinks and have some fun. I'll drive us home."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Now give me your keys before you get stubborn."

"I do not get stubborn."

"Give me the keys, Kurt."

Kurt huffed and handed his car keys to Rachel.

The party continued for almost another half hour. By then Kurt had already downed about three drinks, one of which he was sure Santana had added an extra shot of something very strong to, and he was feeling the buzz.

Just as Mercedes, in her amazing Cat Woman costume, was able to pull him toward the dancefloor, Jacob Ben Israel ran in with his hands in the air, nearly bumping into Sam who was dressed as the Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesse St. James is outside! He wants a one on one with Noah Puckerman in retaliation to the smack talk you've been doing on Facebook."

The New Directions were silent, temporarily sobered for almost thirty seconds before Puck stood up from his chair, removing the cape and black mask from his Dracula costume.

"Dude, you can't go out there," Finn stood up immediately, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. He looked ridiculous in his Zoro costume, but Kurt hadn't found time to fix the ill fitting outfit.

"Yeah, you know how this guy works," said Mike, who had drawn on a green mask as part of his Joker costume. Tina was holding his hand beside him, dressed as Harley Quinn, "It's gotta be a trap."

"Hey!" Puck snapped, "If some punk wants to challenge a Puckerman to a fight, I don't care what kind of trap it is. I'm going out there and you guys can back me up if you want to or not."

"It's not like we have a choice," said Artie, who was dressed as a zombie with mask that made it look like his skin was falling off. He'd removed the mask a while ago, since it looked slightly disturbing, "Crooning Titans code states that we always back a brother up."

"Lead the way," Sam shrugged.

* * *

"Hey, Ms. Rose," said Jake into the phone, leaning on the side of the building.

"Oh, hi Jake! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah everything is fine. Marley already went inside. She's with the Troubletones. Great job with her costume, by the way, the other girls were really impressed."

"Oh, thank you, Jake."

"I didn't get a chance to see you when I picked Marley up," he smiled into the phone. This was hardly a thing that Jake Puckerman would normally do, but Marley was hardly a normal girl, "And I just wanted to let you know that we got here alright and I'll have her home by eleven. Or earlier if you prefer."

"Eleven is fine. You kids have fun, okay?"

"Thanks Ms. Rose. See you on Monday."

"Bye Jake."

Jake turned the corner to enter the restaurant again when somebody spoke in a leering voice.

"Awww...Is baby Puckerman calling in to check on his mommy?"

Jake smirked and turned to face the lone biker, "What are you doing here, St. James? Did you get tired of being a cowardly little shit? Didn't think you went anywhere without your crew to back you up."

Jake hardly winced as St. James stood and walked toward him, stopping just at arms length. Without his back up singers, Jake could totally take this guy.

"I don't." Jesse raised and eyebrow and whistled loudly. The sound of engines roaring filled the air as seven or eight guys in motorcycles appeared. Jake swallowed, "What was that about a coward?"

Puck pushed the door open just in time to see his brother getting punched in the jaw, falling backwards onto the sidewalk.

Before Puck could even start a fight that he was sure to lose, the sound of another bike filled the air. The motorcycle raced across the sidewalk, between the three boys, throwing Jesse backwards in a clear challenge.

Forgetting about Puck, Jesse yelled at his friends to follow after the mysterious biker, climbing onto his own bike quickly.

"Who is that?" Rachel asked in awe from the door.

"Does he look familiar to you guys?" asked Mercedes.

"I think I'd remember an ass like that," Kurt smirked.

"Oh, God...Dude!"

"What's wrong, Finn? Still homophobic?"

"Of course not, but but but...Do you have to check out every guy you see? You're my brother."

"Besides, his ass isn't that great," said Sam.

"You're just jealous that I don't check out your ass, anymore, Evans," Kurt snickered, making the girls all giggle.

The mystery biker spun around quickly to face the Vocal Adrenaline group, who had formed into a V shape.

"Come on!" said Brittany, throwing the doors open and rushing toward the parking lot for a closer look.

Half the restaurant spilled out and climbed onto their cars. Kurt used the spare tire on the back of his Navigator to climb onto its roof, holding out a hand for Rachel and Tina to do the same. Sam opened the bed of his truck beside them and helped Marley and Mercedes onto it. On the other side of the Navigator, the Unholy Trinity climbed onto the roof of Quinn's car. The rest of the Crooners scattered between the hoods of Mike and Finn's cars. Marley made a motion for Jake to join her, helping him climb up and checking his jaw before turning back to the motorcycle fight that was going on.

Blaine was trying his best not to panic and keep the cool expression he'd been practicing all week. Getting into a fight with a bunch of bikers from another school's show choir was certainly not a part of his plans for tonight, but they were about to beat Jake into a pulp. He knew how much Marley liked Jake, and he would've never forgiven himself if he had done nothing and let it happen, regardless of whether Marley knew who he was or not at the time.

 _Riding is just Physics. Keep the balance. Keep the right speed. I can do this. Even Sam said I surpassed his expectations._

He rode off in the other direction, knowing that the Vocal Adrenaline crew would follow. They did, and when Blaine turned around to face them again, they were conveniently lined up into two rows. With a deep breath, he drove fast in between the two rows, forcing the group apart.

"Oh my God!" Rachel screamed.

"He's not that great," Puck rolled his eyes, ego clearly bruised.

Blaine took a few seconds to make some rough calculations in his head. At the right speed and making the right angles, he could knock at least three of them off their bikes. He drove forward, a triumphant smile on his face as four of his opponents were knocked to the ground, St. James included.

Quinn smirked and called over to Puck, "You were saying?"

"Who is he?" Kurt breathed to himself.

"I wish we could see his face," said Rachel.

"I don't think Kurt needs to see his face," Tina chuckled.

"Oh, shut up." Kurt blushed.

The mystery biker chose that moment to jump over a car and race toward the New Directions' cars. He slowed down just in front of Marley, his fingers flicking at a piano shaped keychain attached to the keys. Marley gasped and turned behind her to look at Sam, who was smiling knowingly and put a finger to his lips. Marley turned back to the mystery biker, but he was already stopped in front of Kurt's Navigator, giving Kurt a lingering look that lasted a good two seconds before the sound of police sirens hit their ears.

"Shit!" Jesse St. James swore, and with that the moment was ruined.

The biker raced away in the opposite direction of Vocal Adrenaline, leaving Kurt with his mouth hanging slightly open.

People started to climb down from their cars and go back inside, the autumn chill driving away those who were wearing more revealing costumes. Finn and Mike helped their girlfriends down from Kurt's car, while Kurt climbed down via the spare tire again.

"You coming, bro?" Finn asked when Kurt lingered.

"Um. I'll be right there. I'm going to call Dad first. He was feeling a little weird earlier."

"He looked fine when we left," said Finn, clearly not buying it.

"He didn't want you to worry. But you know I can always see right through that so...I'm just going to check if he's going to bed. You know how he overworks himself sometimes."

Finn nodded, leading Rachel back inside with the rest of the New Directions. When it appeared he was the last person in the parking lot, he began to pace back and forth like he hadn't done since before coming out to his dad.

"What. The. Hell? What was that? _Who_ was that? How much did I even have to drink that I'm this affected by some guy in tight jeans?"

"Nice to know you liked them."

A deep voice made him almost jump out of his skin.

"Holy shit! Oh my God! Do NOT do that! Oh my god...oh my god," Kurt became even more breathless as he recognized the bike, and helmet, and perfectly amazing clothes. Seriously...how could a white t-shirt stretch like that over somebody's chest and not rip? And despite the long sleeves of his jacket, Kurt could tell that two amazing biceps were hidden underneath all that leather. Good God, he needed to get laid.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," the mystery guy smirked.

"No...I...it's fine...I..." Kurt's face began to heat up as he recalled what he'd been doing when he'd been startled, "Um...how much of that did you hear, exactly?"

"Just the part about the tight jeans."

Did this guy ever smile? Kurt soon had to forget that question as the image of a smile stretching across those lips made his heart falter. He could barely see Jake's mysterious savior beneath the helmet, but the strong jaw lined with stubble and semi-full lips suggested that this guy was definitely not bad looking. Kurt just wished he could see more of his face. The biker seemed to read his thoughts, because he began to remove his helmet in what felt like slow motion. Kurt took hold of his sunglasses, pushing them onto the top of his head.

Before he could catch a glimpse at his leather clad Adonis, however, a cop car pulled into the parking lot. The biker sighed as he pulled the helmet back on properly, making Kurt hope that he was just as disappointed by the interruption as Kurt was.

"Maybe next time," the smooth, rich low voice said as he sped off.

Blaine tried not to look too disappointed, but couldn't help another sigh as he eyed the cop car, making the necessary calculations to jump clean over it, but not daring to look back at Kurt when he did.

"Oh God, please don't follow me," Blaine muttered in horror. Never in his life had he done anything remotely illegal. Choosing not to ruin his night by having the police keeping an eye on him, he raced home as fast as he could without pushing the speed limit and killed the engine a block before his house, making sure not to wake his mom as he walked the bike into the garage.

He climbed slowly upstairs to the guest room, where Cooper had dropped a few of his things off on his last visit, claiming that his and Blaine's old bedroom at their dad's house was too full of costumes and props. Blaine figured Cooper's real reason was to make their mom feel like Cooper was just as much a part of their new household as he was the old one.

"Masks, masks, masks, where are the- ah ha! Perfect."

Forty minutes later, Blaine pulled his Mazda into the Breadstix parking lot and tried his best to blend in so that it looked like he'd been there the whole time.

"Hey Blaine!" Sugar yelled over the music, waving at him and linking her arm through his, "You having fun?"

"Yeah, Sugar, it's great," he smiled, "Thanks for inviting me!"

"Hey, Sugar," Marley came up to them, smiling sweetly, "Can I borrow Blaine for a second?"

"Of course! Catch ya later," Sugar winked at them and walked off.

Marley grabbed Blaine by the wrist and began walking.

"If I'd known you were coming as Cinderella, I would have dug around for a Prince Charming costume. Or is Jake already wearing that one?"

"Oh, shush," Marley laughed, "Besides, I think Peter Pan suits you just fine."

"Although," Sam appeared on Blaine's other side, "I think I liked the biker look better."

"What are you guys talking about? Sam, are you drunk?" Blaine joked as his two friends pushed him through the kitchen and out the back door.

"Exactly," Sam looked at his watch, "Eighty-five minutes ago, a biker zoomed through the parking lot, took on eight of Carmel High's finest on a motorcycle, and knocked the socks off one Kurt Elizabeth Hummel before disappearing into the night. All before your arrival."

"Blaine Anderson, how do you plead?" Marley asked in mock seriousness.

Blaine leaned back and rested his head against the wall with a smile, "I am guilty as charged."

Sam laughed and patted him on the back, whereas Marley squealed and threw her arms around Blaine. He would have probably fallen to the ground if he wasn't leaning against a wall.

"But now what? I mean in that whole getup and the bike and the beard I knocked the socks off him, but looking like I usually do..."

"You'll knock them right back on," fnished Sam.

"Yeah."

* * *

Blaine couldn't stop worrying from the moment he woke up on Sunday morning. He was going to see Kurt again today. Not that Kurt would know it was the second time they'd spoken that weekend.

Kurt had been insistent on maintaining his reputation as one of McKinley's smartest students, meaning that the Lima Bean or any other place near McKinley were off limits for their tutoring sessions. The same went for Kurt's house, since apparently Sam and Finn always had at least one of the other Crooners over on Sundays to play video games and make noise.

So Blaine had suggested the Corner Cafe in Perry. It was a fifteen minute drive, but Kurt had seemed okay with that as long as nobody from school saw him being tutored.

Blaine was about to go back upstairs and change after lunch when his phone chimed.

 _From: Kurt_

 _My dad's shop has a ton of clients today. He's going to need all of us longer than I thought. Can we reschedule for Tuesday afternoon?_

Blaine sighed and texted back that it was okay, deciding to go back to his room and waste the day away doing something that Kurt would probably consider nerdy.

He switched between reading, doing the extra credit for his math class even though he didn't need it, and watching Star Trek reruns. Every now and then he would get a text from Marley, who would randomly come up with ideas for how to solve his problem with Kurt and his double-identity. At six in the afternoon, however, he received a text from Sam.

Blaine had to read it three times before smiling to himself and jumping out of his bed, eyeing the leather jacket in his closet with a new found gleam in his eyes.

* * *

Sam wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. It would probably leave a huge black smudge, but it wasn't like the other guys looked any better. Finn was sitting on a stool that was far too small for him, looking like he might fall out of it at any minute. Puck, who came in whenever Burt needed an extra hand, had thrown himself on the floor, limbs sticking out like he was about to make a snow angel.

"I never want to align another tire in my life," said Mike, who, like Finn, was a regular weekend employee, "Actually, I have half a mind to quit Grease, just so I never have to spend time in anything resembling an auto shop ever again."

"Starting to wish I'd said yes to visiting my great aunt Macey with my parents this weekend," said Sam sitting on the floor by Puck's feet, "Even if her house does smell like cats and old bananas."

"My only question is this," said Puck, propping himself up on his elbows, "How the hell does Hummel manage to stay so clean? He changed as much oil as any of us did."

Kurt didn't respond. In fact he seemed to not have heard a thing. Instead, he was staring at the clipboard in front of him, his hands doodling idly.

"Uh...Kurt? This is where you tell him you're not a Neanderthal like the rest of us," said Finn.

"Huh? What?" Kurt asked when he realized everybody was looking at him, "Sorry. Zoned out. It's been a long day."

"And yet you look like you just had the best day ever," said Puck.

"Dude," Finn sat up straight and turned on what the others referred to as the Big Brother Voice (never to Finn's face, of course), "You're not like this because of the biker from last night are you?"

"What?" Kurt asked defensively, though Sam heard the way his voice went higher, "That's ridiculous."

"Good, because that guy is bad news," said Finn.

"You're just jealous because he rides better than you do," Kurt answered distractedly.

"I knew it! You're into him! That's gotta stop."

"Why, because you think he's straight?"

"No, because he's obviously NOT straight," Finn stood.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Not when he dresses like that and rides a motorcycle like a freaking stuntman!"

"Your best friend dresses and rides like that, too, you know?" Kurt countered, getting up as well.

"Yeah, and I didn't like you dating him, either!" Finn motioned to the floor where Puck was before turning to his friend, "No offense, dude."

"None taken. I was a shitty gay boyfriend, anyway. I think I'm just going to date chicks from now on. Call it a phase."

"Okay, seriously," said Kurt, "Whatever issue you have, Finn, you need to fix it. I can like whoever I want to like and date whoever I want to date. I don't need your approval."

"I think the guy's alright," Sam winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"What? You're siding with him on this?" Finn looked betrayed.

Sam shrugged, "How bad can the guy be? He did save Jake's ass from Jesse and those guys. And he didn't do anything illegal or actually hurt any of them, so there's that."

"Can we all just stop talking about this?" Kurt snapped, going back to his seat before adding, in the most miserable voice Sam had ever heard him use, "It's not like there's a chance I'll ever see him again, anyway. I don't even know his name."

Finn looked guilty at that, Mike looked like he was watching a highly entertaining but very stressful sports broadcast, and Puck had just started snoring. Kurt seemed to look over whatever doodles he had made on his clipboard, before ripping off the page and crumpling it into a ball that landed easily in the garbage.

Sam pulled out his phone without much of a plan. Two of his closest friends had the hots for each other and both were worried that the other wasn't interested. This situation needed to be remedied. He looked for Blaine's name on his contacts and wrote up a text message.

 _Kurt has been mooning over his motorcycle hero all day, and now he looks like somebody ran over his puppy at the thought of never seeing you again. Put on the jacket and helmet and haul ass over here._

Burt came in a while later to tell Puck and Mike that they could go home before shutting himself up in his office to check on the week's paperwork and inventory before closing up. Kurt, Sam, and Finn sat outside to wait for him, the subject easily turning to Sectionals.

"Any luck figuring out who the mystery voice is?" asked Sam.

"No," Kurt shook his head, "At this rate I'm starting to think I'll never find the guy. And even if I did, it might be too close to Sectionals to incorporate another singer."

"We could still use him for Regionals," said Finn.

"Assuming we make it that far."

"We're up against a team called the Unitards. I don't think it's going to be that hard."

Kurt was about to say something when the sound of a motorcycle broke through. Kurt groaned and flung his head back, "If Puckerman forgot something again..."

"Uh, Kurt?" Sam tugged on Kurt's sleeve, "It's not Puck."

Kurt's head immediately snapped up, watching with wide eyes as the motorcycle stopped right in front of him.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing when Blaine said, in a much lower and huskier voice than usual, "How about a ride?"

"I...uh...Ye...Yes," Kurt nodded, "Lemme just...jacket...Um...Hol-Hold on."

Kurt rushed inside to grab his Troubletone jacket, Finn rushing after him.

Sam finally allowed himself to laugh out loud, "Duuuuude!"

"Shut up," Blaine said through gritted teeth, "Shut up or I'll start laughing."

"You...are the cheesiest...little...ha!" Sam couldn't help it but laugh harder, his hand gripping his side as he took in the old fashioned helmet and goggles, the leather jacket AND pants, and the way Blaine was trying to keep a straight face/smoulder, "You forgot the beard, by the way. And what's with the weird accent?"

"Well, I shaved last night, didn't I? And Californian was the only one that I could pull off. Shush, he's coming back!" Blaine whispered.

Sam stepped back, biting his cheek again.

"You might want to check on Finn in a few minutes. He's sulking," said Kurt, hoisting himself onto the motorcycle behind Blaine with ease.

"Have fun," Sam teased, making Kurt scoff and stick out his tongue while Blaine tried to pretend he wasn't affected by it.

* * *

 **A/N: Bad boy Blaine to the rescuuue! Next up, Kurt and Blaine go on their first date, although Kurt still doesn't know who he is.**


	6. Take a Look At Me Now

**2 more chapters after this!**

 **Song for this one is the Glee version of Against All Odds, sung by Blaine.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not nor will I ever own Glee.**

* * *

"This is...are you even real?" Kurt asked when the motorcycle finally stopped in front of the park, his mystery date turning slightly to face him on the bike.

Blaine chuckled lightly, "I think the way your hands were on my chest answers that question."

Kurt looked positively mortified, his face and neck going redder than Blaine's had ever been. He _had_ been holding on particularly tight for somebody who was used to riding on the back of a motorcycle, and maybe at some point his hands had roamed upward and slayed themselves across the other boy's chest.

"Sorry," Kurt looked at the ground. Blaine tried not to chuckle as he lifted Kurt's chin to meet his eyes.

"I didn't mind," Blaine mumbled in that same low voice that he was getting tired of using. He knew he should tell Kurt who he really was. Sam had been insisting on it since last night's party. But the truth was that Blaine was scared out of his mind. Kurt had made it clear that he had no romantic interest whatsoever in Nerdy Blaine Anderson. But the mysterious biker had a completely opposite effect on the Troubletone.

"You didn't?" Kurt smiled shyly.

Blaine shook his head slowly, "Not one bit."

Kurt sighed deeply, clasping his hands in his lap.

"Your hands are shaking."

"It's a little cold," said Kurt in a small voice, even though it was considerably warmer than when they'd been riding and he was wearing his Troubletone jacket over a sweater.

"Liar."

Kurt looked up at Blaine through his eyelashes, and it took everything in Blaine's power not to shiver himself.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Can I...would you mind if I kissed you?'

Kurt's eyes went wide and he started to laugh quietly.

"Did I say something wrong?" Blaine asked, suddenly having to remind himself over and over that Kurt liked this side of him. He liked his secret identity. When he was a biker, he didn't have to feel insecure. So why did he?

"What? No! Not at all," Kurt smiled warmly, making Blaine sigh lightly in relief. He would do anything Kurt asked if that smile could be directed at him again and again, "It's just that...nobody has ever really asked for my permission. My first kiss was stolen by this guy who gave me so much crap for being gay, and it turned out he was just freaking out in the closet. And then the second one was at a party, and we were both drunk, and it kind of just escalated into a relationship from there...But-but that's totally over! Forever! I'm completely single now!"

Blaine chuckled lightly again, "I didn't hear a yes in there."

"Wha...Oh! Um, yes. Yes, you are more than welcome to kiss me. Please do. Right now."

Kurt's determination and usual fire seemed to return as their lips connected. While Blaine thought this nervous, babbling Kurt was adorable, he'd been starting to miss the confident diva who apparently couldn't hide when it came time to kiss somebody. It was more than obvious that although Blaine had initiated, Kurt was in charge here. No matter how he seemed to follow Blaine's every move, it was more than clear that Kurt could change things up as he so pleased. It only made Blaine feel like he was drowning even more.

When they broke apart, Kurt was shaking again, and Blaine was trying his best to keep his body still. He allowed himself one soft smile at Kurt, who instantly sighed and looked at his lips once more.

"What are you thinking?" Blaine asked, his hand coming to rest on Kurt's cheek, thumb rubbing absently over a cheekbone.

"I'm not sure," Kurt admitted, "A lot of things have been on my mind lately."

"Like what?"

"Well, there's the school play. I have a small role in that..."

"There are no..."

"Small roles, only small actors," Kurt finished for him with a roll of his eyes, "Total bullshit, by the way."

Blaine chuckled again, "Okay, what else?"

"I'm also helping with the costumes for that. Opening night is this coming weekend. And then Sectionals is two weeks after...oh, for show choir. That's what the jacket is from. I'm in the New Directions. Not sure if you..."

"I know what it is," Blaine nodded.

"Wait...do you go to McKinley?" Kurt asked suddenly, and Blaine felt like punching himself in the face for slipping up like that.

"Have you ever seen me there?" he asked as way of answer.

Kurt did something between a sigh and a laugh, "I would remember you. Definitely."

"Keep going. What else is on your mind?"

"Um...I got a really low grade in Physics. But I asked this brainy kid to tutor me. Please don't tell anybody I said that."

"About the brainy kid or the tutoring?"

"Both."

"Okay. What else?"

"Auditions for NYADA are a month away. That's this incredible dramatic arts college in New York that is basically my only option. I'm getting in no matter what I have to do. And, well, there's one more thing that's been stressing me out, and it doesn't help that everybody has been on my ass about it."

"Tell me. Maybe I can help."

"The other day I went into the auditorium when I thought it was empty. But there was somebody in there. And they were singing. And whoever it was had an incredible voice. The type of voice that wins competitions. But I didn't see who it was and now I've been spending a ton of time in the auditorium like some sort of freaky stalker in the hopes of hearing that voice again and recruiting whoever it is into the New Directions."

"Sounds like this voice of yours is pretty talented."

"He is. I mean, I don't know him and I only heard him sing like one verse of a Katy Perry song. But that one verse was incredible and Sectionals is only three weeks away and I know we'll win either way, but we could really use the extra voice for Regionals because Dalton is totally going to bring it now that they're up against National Champs. Dalton is this preppy boy school in Westerville."

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all my problems on you. You must think I'm crazy now."

"I asked, didn't I?" said Blaine, his hand coming to rest on Kurt's and play with his fingers, "And I don't think you're crazy. Driven and dedicated, yes. And I've never heard you sing, but if you're auditioning for that school I bet you're really talented."

"What about you?" asked Kurt, "Do I get to hear anything about your life?"

"Where's the mystery in that?" Blaine teased.

"Not even one little thing? What do you want to do after high school? Er...or are you already in college?"

"I want to major in Music Composition," said Blaine, figuring Kurt would never ask Nerdy Blaine Anderson the same thing, "Hopefully at NYU."

"So maybe I'll see you around New York, huh?"

"Maybe." Blaine smirked.

"Oh my God!" Kurt said suddenly, looking at his vibrating phone, "What time is it?"

Blaine looked at his watch and gulped. He was so late for curfew, and Kurt probably was, too, "It's ten forty."

"Shit," Kurt muttered, answering his cell phone, "Hey, Dad...I know, ten thirty, I know...I'm so sorry. Time just got away from me. I'm on my way back now, I promise...Yes, yes...I'll be there in a few minutes, okay...Sorry I worried you...Okay. I know, I'm sorry...I'll be right there, I'm so sorry."

Blaine started the engine as soon as Kurt hung up, "Back to the shop?"

"No, no. My house is a few blocks away. I'll point you, just go. I'm so sorry about this, I totally spaced."

"Don't worry about it. Hold on tight."

There was a light on downstairs when they pulled up in front of Kurt's house.

"I'm so grounded," Kurt groaned.

Blaine figured he would be, too. His curfew was usually eleven o'clock, but he would never make it in time considering how far Kurt's house was from his.

Despite the fact that he was already late, Kurt didn't let go of Blaine's waste or make any effort to get off the bike. Instead, his head came to rest against Blaine's back, making Blaine smile in a way that was less like the mysterious biker and more like him.

This was the moment. He hadn't done it before, but he needed to tell Kurt who he was now.

"Kurt...I need to tell you..."

The front door of Kurt's house burst open at that moment to reveal a fuming Finn Hudson.

"Seriously?! Get off the bike, Kurt!"

"Dude," Sam came out behind him, "Are you trying to wake up the whole freaking block? Keep it down!"

"Fine. I don't need to yell to beat this guy's ass into the ground." Finn gritted through his teeth.

"Finn," a man's calm voice came from the front door. Blaine guessed it was Kurt's dad, "Get inside. Kurt, say goodnight to your friend."

Kurt reluctantly climbed off the motorcycle as Sam ushered a still angry Finn inside. Mr. Hummel walked toward the sidewalk, eyeing Blaine and his motorcycle. Maybe he should have toned it down with the leather.

"Thank you for bringing him home, albeit late."

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"It was my fault, Dad," said Kurt, "He didn't know what time I had to be home."

"It really won't," Blaine repeated.

"Yeah, okay," said Mr. Hummel, clearly not impressed, "Come on, Kurt."

Blaine watched as Kurt and his father walked to the front door. Before it closed, Kurt turned back and gave him a small wave, which Blaine returned until the door had closed.

Looking down at his own phone, he noticed two missed calls from his mom and typed out a quick text to her.

 _Be home in fifteen minutes._

The answer he received made him look down at his clothes. _Where are you?_

Blaine came up with an excuse so fast he felt extremely proud of himself, but also deeply worried about how easy it was getting to be to lie to his mom.

 _Helping Sam with his lines for Grease. Time slipped away from me. Heading home now._

When he came through the door fifteen minutes later, his mom looked positively amused.

"You know, when Cooper did this we would usually ground him. And it was usually because he was out at a party or with some girl. But missing curfew because you were doing schoolwork? I'm not sure what the punishment for that is," she smiled.

"Um...I would give you suggestions but I've never actually been grounded so..."

"I guess I'll let you off with a warning." Pam laughed, "What on earth are you wearing?"

"Um...we were practicing for Grease." Blaine shrugged.

"Sounds like Sam takes his at home practices very seriously."

"Yeah. Totally. I'm really tired," Blaine said, and at least that wasn't a lie, "I think I'll head up. Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight."

He was halfway to the stairs when he ran back and kissed Pam on the cheek, making her laugh out loud and smack him on the arm.

Across town, Kurt fell into bed in a haze of pure bliss. He was grounded, of course. He could only go to school, rehearsal, and tutoring. And Finn had to pick him up and drop him off for tutoring to make sure he didn't go off somewhere else. Finn was also still angry for some reason.

But who could care when he'd just had the most amazing day with the most incredible guy? He should probably be worried about the fact that he hadn't seen his face yet, nor did he know his name, or even have his number. He'd been about to ask for the guy's number when Finn came outside. Kurt was also sure that his mystery date was about to tell him something very important, like maybe who he was. He'd worry about all of that later, though, because right now all he wanted was to relive every single moment of this entire evening.

His mystery biker's voice was echoing in his mind when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Kurt sighed, sitting up in his bed and figuring it was as good a time as ever to start his nightly routine.

"Hey," Finn said quietly, looking at his feet as he closed the door behind him.

"Come to yell at me some more?" Kurt grunted, yanking a pair of pajamas out of a drawer.

"I'm sorry." Finn mumbled.

"What was that?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

 _"_ Do I have to say it again?" Finn winced.

Kurt almost laughed at him. Almost, "No. Just wanted to see you squirm a little."

Finn sat down on the edge of his bed, looking nervous.

"What's going on, Finn?" Kurt asked gently, but still confused, "Why have you been like this?"

Finn looked around the room for a while before finally looking at Kurt, "You know I'm really bad at this whole...feelings thing, right?"

"Yes, I know. try not to take it out on my lamp this time, okay?"

"Promise you won't laugh at me for trying this."

"I promise," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes, either."

"Okay. I won't. What's going on? Why are you being like this?"

The room was silent for so long that Kurt was sure Finn wasn't going to say anything after all. Just as he was going to turn and head to the bathroom, his stepbrother managed to form words.

"You dated my best friend."

"Um...yes?" Kurt answered like it was a question.

"You dated him, and I didn't say anything. I didn't try to stand in the way because I figured you could make your own decisions and all that."

"And I'm grateful for that," said Kurt, "I know it can't have been comfortable for you that your brother and your best friend were in a relationship."

"That's the thing, though." said Finn, finally looking Kurt in the face, "It wasn't hard for me. It was a relief. I mean, Puck used to toss you in the dumpster...and I guess I helped but it was always his idea and stuff. And even after Glee Club started, you guys could barely stand each other. You were always fighting. And then our parents started dating and you and I started becoming more like brothers...and then we _were_ brothers. And then Puck and I were best friends again after that whole thing with Quinn and Beth. And I guess I was just so glad that my best friend and my brother were getting along that I didn't care what sort of relationship you had."

"Finn, I..."

"Did you love him? Did you love Puck? Be honest."

Kurt's brow furrowed for a moment, "I...no. Honestly, I didn't love Puck. It was just fun, you know? I mean, we were drunk for our first kiss and I guess Puck just wanted to experiment and I just wanted to have a boyfriend and it was fun and everything but...it wasn't love. He loves Quinn. And I...I still haven't found the love of my life yet."

"You see, and that should have mattered to me. It should have bothered me that I knew...still know exactly what Puck is like and I let him date my little brother."

"I'm two months older than you."

"I'm bigger. You're smaller. And I can beat more people up than you. That makes me the big brother. We've had this conversation."

"I know, I just like hearing the argument," Kurt shrugged, making Finn the one to roll his eyes.

"Anyway. When you guys broke up, I kinda freaked out because I thought you might go back to hating each other like before. But then when I went to see Sam and convince his parents to let him come back to Lima, he asked me about everybody. And when I told him you'd broken up with Puck because you got bored of him or whatever, he was like 'Well, at least Kurt dumped him before Puck did something stupid and broke his heart.' And that made me feel like I had been such a jerk! Because I let my little brother go out with my best friend when I knew exactly the kind of man slut that my best friend is and that he might do something horrible to you."

"And so now," Kurt started slowly, "You're trying to prevent that from happening?"

"I guess," Finn shrugged, seemingly having run out of emotional venting for the day.

"Finn," Kurt sat next to him on the bed, "I know that sometimes you look at me and you still see the kid who got thrown into the dumpster, or the guy that ran into the choir room crying because some homophobic baboon forced himself onto him. But I'm not completely breakable, you know? I can take care of myself."

"I know that," said Finn, "But you're still my brother, man."

"I know," said Kurt, his eyes suddenly stinging, "And I couldn't have hand picked a better brother. But threatening to beat the crap out of the guy I have a crush on isn't going to keep me from getting hurt, Finn. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. And I know that if I do it won't hurt as much because I really am not that kid from the dumpsters anymore. And that has nothing to do with being popular or wearing some fancy jacket. And it has nothing to do with me acting like a total bitch and rolling my eyes at everybody like I don't care. It's because of you, and Rachel, and the rest of the glee club. Even Puck. Every one of us in that choir room has gotten screwed over so many times, but we've made it because we were there for each other. And I know you're there for me. Just try to be there for me in a less aggressive way, alright?"

Finn laughed, standing up from the bed, "I guess I can do that. But if he ever does mess with you, I'm kicking his ass."

Kurt rolled his eyes this time, "I wouldn't expect anything less. Now get out of here. This perfect face isn't going to moisturize itself."

"Oh! Uh...I almost forgot. Sam started using that thing you gave me for blackheads and we ran out. Could you..."

"I'll pick up a new one tomorrow. Or we both will, since I've lost my car privileges for anything other than going to school. You can drive us to the store."

"Cool...We are cool, right?"

"Yes, we are cool. It's good to have you back, big brother. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

"This place is a hundred times better than the Lima Bean." said Kurt as he took a generous sip of his coffee on Tuesday afternoon.

"Wait until you try the brownies," said Blaine, pulling the Physics text book out of his bag along with his notebook.

"Oh no," Kurt groaned, looking at the entrance to the coffee shop, "Great. Of all the people who could come in here."

Blaine turned toward the door and instantly regretted it. It's not that he wasn't happy to see his friend, but Sebastian would probably have a lot to say about Blaine's lack of communication over the last couple of months.

"Oh, great. He's coming over here," said Kurt.

"Wait, you know him?"

"He's on the Warblers, of course I know him. He's only the bane of my existence."

"Oh, well that's..."

"Blaine Devon Anderson," Sebastian drawled, his signature smirks already stretching over his face, "Fancy bumping into you here. And with Princess Peach of all people? Is that why you haven't called me?"

"Bas, I'm so sorry..."

"Wait wait wait...you two know each other?" asked Kurt, holding up a hand to silence them, "Blaine, were you a Warbler?! Is that why you've been making friends with the New Directions? To feed them information?"

"Wha—I..."

"Blaine doesn't sing, Princess," Sebastian sneered, and suddenly he was back to the freshman who defended anyone who even thought about messing with Blaine, "And if you really must know, we were roommates, and Lacrosse teammates. _That's_ how we know each other. I also thought we were best friends but _somebody_ seems to have forgotten that and stopped texting or calling."

"Sorry," Blaine said sheepishly, "It's been a really busy few weeks."

"Is this a date?" Sebastian asked suddenly, "Are you on a date with lady face, Blaine?"

"Wha...I..no!" Blaine sputtered.

At the same time Kurt sputtered, "No! No, no, no."

"We...um...we got partnered up for a Physics project," said Blaine, hoping that his lying had gotten good enough to convincingly lie to Sebastian.

"That's a lie," said Sebastian immediately, though he didn't seem angry, "You can tell me what you're really doing in Perry with Kurt Hummel on a Tuesday afternoon on Friday over coffee."

"I have work on Friday. And the play."

"Saturday morning then. Later, Blaine." said Sebastian, before turning to Kurt and sneering, "Ladyface."

"Meerkat."

When Sebastian was out the door, Kurt turned to Blaine with a disbelieving look, "Are you serious? How can you be friends with that?"

Blaine shrugged and looked down at his hands, "He can be nice when he wants to. He's just really competitive."

"I don't think I can imagine Sebastian Smythe being nice to anybody."

"It's been known to happen," said Blaine.

"Care to elaborate?" Kurt asked, arms crossing over his chest.

"Not really," Blaine said in a small voice which was enough to make Kurt's expression soften, "It's a long story and we don't have time for long stories. Let's get started with this before he comes back. Sebastian's been known to make up to four coffee runs in a day when he's in town."

"You knew he lived here?"

"He's the one who showed me this place. I didn't think he'd be here since it's a Tuesday, though. Shall we? Or are you going to keep putting this off? You know I charge by the hour, right?"

"Right." said Kurt, pulling out his textbook and opening it to the right chapter.

"Where do you want to start?"

"Um...sorry, what?" Kurt turned to Blaine from the spot on the table he'd been glaring at.

Blaine tried not to laugh, "You seem distracted."

"Nothing. It's nothing. I just have a lot of stuff on my mind, is all."

"With senior year and the play and glee and all that?" asked Blaine.

"Well, that's part of it. Forget it, it's not school stuff, I doubt telling you would make a difference."

"Okay." Blaine shrugged and looked back to the textbook, "Shall we look at the characteristics of waves?"

"It's this guy," Kurt blurted. His eyes went wide and he looked like he might cover his mouth, "Nevermind. Forget about it."

"Well, I'm trying to but you're making it kind of hard." Blaine said in mock amusement. On the inside, his heart was hammering in his chest at the thought of learning what Kurt thought about him...the other him...the cool one.

Kurt sighed, "I guess I just...I had this image in my head of what the perfect guy would be like. Stuff that only my closest friends could probably know. Some of it is stuff that I didn't even know I wanted."

"The nice tough guy?" asked Blaine, remembering the first time they'd spoken.

"Yeah. Him. And it was just a stupid idea, I guess. And yet somehow, out of nowhere, this guy just randomly shows up. Twice. Out of nowhere basically. And I haven't even seen his face yet even though we spent almost half the day together. And a part of me is telling me I should run the other way because this guy is clearly creepy but..."

"But?" Blaine prompted.

"But what if he's not? I mean, what if some strange force of nature decided they'd had enough of my sulking bitchiness and just put Mr. Right on a silver platter?"

"It could happen."

"But then other times I think, what if he's not who he seems? What if underneath the helmet and the weird goggles that somehow don't look tacky on him, he's just some ordinary guy?"

"So what if he was?" asked Blaine, trying his best not to lean over, or to show the fear in his eyes.

"Well...that would..." Kurt's brow furrowed for a moment, and then he sat straighter and opened the book, "Maybe we really should start on the characteristics of waves."

"Right."

Almost an hour later, they'd made some very clear progress.

"Okay, so your five characterstics of waves are..."

"Amplitude, Wavelength, Period, Frequency, and Speed," Kurt listed.

"Alright, this one was on last week's quiz and Mr. Carson suggested it might be on the midterm. 'A transverse wave is transporting energy from east to west. The particles of the medium will move in which direction?'"

Kurt thought for a moment, chewing at his lip in a way that made Blaine's own lips tingle. Yesterday he'd been kissing those lips and feeling Kurt's hands on his waste. Today he was just some nerd helping Kurt raise his Physics grade. This was going to get very difficult, very fast.

"Northward and Southward?"

"Yes. The particles of a transverse wave move perpendicular to the energy transport. You're starting to get this."

"Your notes help a lot," said Kurt, "They're a lot easier to understand than the book. You really are smart. I mean, I knew you were in all these advanced classes, but you must look at me and think I'm a complete dummy."

"Actually I think you're pretty awesome," Blaine said softly, doing his damnest not to blush. Instead, he elicited a slight blush form Kurt.

"Oh, please."

"I'm serious. Not just because you're popular but...you're pretty cool. And you're just as smart as I am, maybe smarter."

"Now you're just making fun of me."

"I am not, I assure you. And I understand this stuff as well as the next person, I just don't have much of a social life, so I spend an unhealthy amount of time taking pretty notes and learning big words that will impress teachers."

"Well, you impress more than teachers," said Kurt, a smile coming across his face, "Learn how to take a compliment, won't you?"

"Okay."

"How about those brownies now?"

* * *

Wednesday night was the final dress rehearsal for Grease, and Mr. Schuester gave everybody the day off on Thursday so they could relax before opening night. According to Sam and Marley, they hadn't even done anything during first period choir. Mr. Schue had been in his office most of the hour, and the New Directions had spent the day singing random songs and showing off their worst and silliest dance moves.

When lunch rolled around Blaine had claimed he had to go study and encouraged Marley to sit with the rest of Glee Club. Instead of heading to the library, he walked quickly to the auditorium. The back door was open, of course. Mr. Schue told them it would be kept that way in case they wanted to check on anything, but everyone had declared lunch a stress-free period and decided to steer clear. Sure enough, the auditorium was empty, and the piano sat in its usual spot backstage.

Blaine ran his fingers gently over the keys before sitting down. Everything had been weighing in on him lately. Kurt, his double life, missing Dalton and Westerville, his parents' divorce, and even the old scars of his first high school. He missed singing very much, but the thought still terrified him. The idea of singing in front of someone else made him freeze as those harsh words replayed themselves in his head. But this, this he could do. Sitting in an empty auditorium with a piano, singing to clear his head. That was something he could never stop doing.

His hands drifted over the keys, fingers in position, and the random keys became a melody from much simpler days. The way he sang it now couldn't compare with the way a thirteen year old Blaine had sung back then. But then again, thirteen year old Blaine was not stressed, or scared, or broken. Thirteen year old Blaine sang this song because it was nice and his parents liked it. Seventeen year old Blaine sang to let out every ounce of worry and pain.

 _How can I just let you walk away,_

 _just let you leave without a trace?_

 _When I stand here taking every breath with you_

 _You're the only one who really knew me at all_

 _How can you just walk away form me_

 _when all I can do is watch you leave?_

 _Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain_

 _And even shared the tears_

 _You're the only one who really knew me at all_

 _So take a look at me now_

 _Well there's just an empty space_

 _And there's nothing left here to remind me_

 _Just the memory of your face_

 _I wish I could just make you turn around_

 _Turn around and see me cry_

 _There's so much I need to say to you_

 _So many reasons why_

 _You're the only one who really knew me at all_

 _Oh, so take a look at me nooooow_

 _Well there's just an empty space_

 _And there's nothing left here to remi-ind me_

 _Just the memory of your face_

 _Take a good look at me now_

 _Cause I'll still be standing here_

 _And you coming back to me is against all odds_

 _It's the chance I've got to take_

 _Mmm, Take a look at me now_

 _Oh oh_

 _Take a look at me now_

"You're Kurt's mysterious voice."

Blaine's hand flew to his chest and he jumped, nearly knocking the piano bench back.

"M-Mr. Schuester. I thought you were going out to lunch."

"Emma got caught up with a student," said Mr. Schue, walking toward Blaine with his hands in his pockets, "It is you, isn't it? That guy Kurt heard singing Teenage Dream?"

"I...You can't tell anyone."

"Blaine," Mr. Schuester smiled, "You should be telling _everyone_! You're extremely talented if that song is anything to go by. And so far I haven't been wrong. Why didn't you audition for the New Directions? You clearly love singing."

"I can't. I...I don't sing. I mean I used to, before...but that's over. It's in the past."

"That's a real shame. Because with that voice, singing should be a part of your future, too."

"Well, it's not," Blaine insisted, "I don't sing anymore. Just sometimes when I need to think, but I don't sing in front of people, alright? I can't."

"Stage fright? I think that's what Marley said before. But I'm sure we can work on..."

"It's more than just stage fright, okay?" Blaine snapped. He had never snapped at a teacher in his life, "I just don't do it. Not now. Not ever. So just forget it, okay? And please don't tell Kurt or any of the others that it's me because I'm not going to join your club, alright?"

Mr. Schuester seemed to understand that something bigger was at play here, because he placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder and spoke softly, "I saw your file in Principal Figgins' office. I'll admit I did it for completely unprofessional reasons. Some of the kids were worried you might be feeding information to the Warblers if we let you get too close. It was wrong, I know, and I didn't expect to find anything. Actually I was looking for a way to show those guys that you wouldn't be a problem."

"I can get that, I guess," Blaine shrugged, looking anywhere but at Mr. Schuester.

"I know you were well into your freshman year when you transferred to Dalton. And your medical history mentions time in the hospital. Blaine, if something happened at your old school, and you need help dealing with it, you know Emma-um, Ms. Pillsbury- and I are available for anything you might need. Glee or not, we care about the kids at this school. So if you ever need anything, you can always talk to one of us. Or talk to your friends about it. I'm sure Sam and Marley would understand."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Blaine mumbled, finally looking at the teacher's face, "There is something, but I'm just...I'm not ready to talk about it right now, I guess. Please don't tell the Glee Club, okay? Not even Sam or Marley know about this. Actually no one does, so..."

"Your secret is safe with me."

By the time lunch ended, he knew in his heart and mind that Mr. Schuester was right. He did need to talk to someone about this. Someone he trusted above anybody else. Cooper sort of knew about everything that had happened, and he'd guessed that Blaine's singing had somehow been a contributing factor to getting the crap beat out of him. But he'd never pushed or asked, and Blaine had never mentioned it. He simply stopped singing, and Cooper simply stopped requesting that he sing.

But Coop was on the other side of the country right now, and a telephone conversation wouldn't give Blaine the peace of mind he needed. Next to Cooper, there was one person who knew most of the story, and who would understand without judging. Blaine pulled out his phone and found Sebastian's name.

 _Are you at Dalton or are you still in Perry?_

The answer came five minutes later. _Back at Dalton. Why?_

 _I need to talk to you. Keep the back gate open, I'll be there at five-thirty._ Blaine answered.

 _I'll be there to help sneak you in._

When the day ended, he texted his mom to let her know he was making the drive to Westerville to visit his friends and that he'd be back before curfew.

The two hour drive helped clear his head and think through what he was going to say to Sebastian, so that by the time he found his friend waiting by the back gate of Dalton Academy, he was able to return the smile and walk up to the dorms.

"Jeff and Nick are having a movie night in Nick and Trent's dorm since Trent went home for the night." Sebastian explained as they headed toward the dorm that Blaine had shared with Sebastian just last year.

Blaine sat on the side of his old bed, and Sebastian seemed to pick up the hint, sitting on his own bed so that they were facing each other.

"What's going on?" Sebastian asked simply, though Blaine could tell he was worried.

Blaine sighed and stared at his hands in his lap for a while, knowing that Bas would give him the time he needed to start talking. Although Sebastian could be a downright a-hole to anybody who annoyed him, he was also a fiercely loyal and understanding friend. Especially to Blaine, though it was probably because under all that sharp ice Sebastian's heart and spirit had also been broken at one point.

"Do you remember when I told you about what happened at my old school?" Blaine asked.

"About the Sadie Hawkins dance?" Sebastian asked, as if there was any doubt as to what Blaine was talking about. Who could ever forget walking into their dorm room to find it completely trashed while their roommate was having a sever panic attack on the floor? "I remember."

Blaine ran his hand over his hair, "I might have...left something out. Something I never told anybody. And now I just...I want...I _need_ to tell somebody because I keep feeling like I'm going to choke on it and...you're the only person besides my brother that knows as much as you do about it."

"You know you can trust me, Blaine."

"I know. And I should have told you this sooner. I'm sorry."

Sebastian shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world, "You weren't ready."

"I think I'm ready now."

"Okay."

"Okay," Blaine gulped, "Here goes. Um...well...I told you about how me and my date were the only openly gay kids in school. And we were friends...and we went to the dance mostly as friends. But those jocks didn't see it that way so...well, you know what happened. But I left out something."

"Okay," Sebastian nodded as a way of prompting him to continue.

"My friend and I...we were in the drama club. Our school didn't have a show choir, but they always put on pretty good musicals. And that year I got the lead even though I was just freshman. I guess in retrospect I should have toned it down a bit. I used to spend my lunch and my mornings singing Disney songs and Show Tunes and crap out on the lawn...So, that night at Sadie Hawkins..."

"It wasn't just about being gay," Sebastian said, realization dawning on his face, "It was about your singing, too."

"Yeah," Blaine whispered, looking back at his hands. "I...When I woke up in the hospital, Coop was there. He was singing and I just...the words they said to me just wouldn't stop echoing in my head. I freaked out completely, just because Cooper was singing to me. And after that I just would always freak out over the thought of singing again. That's why I never joined the Warblers. I would have loved to a year before that. Hell, just days before that dance I would have given up everything to be a Warbler. But after that..."

"Hey, I get it," said Sebastian when it looked like Blaine might cry, "But, if you don't mind my asking, what brought this on? What made you drive all the way out here to tell me instead of waiting for me to go back to Perry?"

Blaine sighed and looked up again, "Do you have time for a long story?"

"It's not like I have to go anywhere," said Sebastian.

And with that, Blaine began to tell Sebastian every single thing that had happened since his first day at McKinley. He talked about Sugar, the New Directions, Marley and his job at the bowling alley, Sam and the riding lessons, and of course he went through every single detail having to do with Kurt, from the first time Blaine saw him dancing on a lunch table to the kiss they had shared while Blaine was still under the pretense of the mysterious biker.

"And then today Mr. Schuester heard me singing in the auditorium and now he knows that I'm the singer Kurt's been trying to find. And I told him I couldn't sing but..."

"But you want to," Sebastian finished for him, "You want to sing again, don't you?"

Blaine sighed, "I guess. I mean, yeah. I've wanted to sing again since the moment I stopped. But I just always froze or had a panic attack when I tried. I can't even sing in front of my mom anymore."

"But two people have heard you sing already," Sebastian pointed out, "You didn't know at first, but they did hear you. Besides, if Lady Face realized you were the mystery voice he's been looking for, he'd probably pee in his pants and fall even more crazy in love with you."

"Yeah, but the biker guy doesn't go to McKinley, remember?"

Sebastian laughed, "I wasn't talking about Biker Guy, I was talking about you, Blaine. Nerdy, Physics tutor you."

"You feeling okay, Bas? Because the last time I checked Kurt Hummel was NOT into me," Blaine scoffed.

"Dude!" Sebastian got up and sat next to Blaine, "You obviously didn't see how he was looking at you at the coffee shop. He might be all gooey eyed and melting into a slobber puddle with Biker Guy, but he's crushing Blaine, too."

"That's ridiculous."

"Not really."

"Bas..."

"Look, I'm not saying you should serenade the guy. But test out singing in front of someone else. You and that Marley chick sound close. Try singing in front of her while you polish bowling balls or something." Sebastian chuckled at his own joke.

"Maybe..."

"Just try it out, Blaine. If you freak out and decide you never want to sing again, that's okay, too."

Blaine smiled at his friend, "Why are you always looking out for me, man?"

"Someone has to," Sebastian shrugged like it didn't matter, but he knew how much it did. He stood up and went to dig through his desk, pulling out a cell phone and throwing it at Blaine, "In the meantime, at least text the guy. I'm getting my new phone tomorrow, but that one will still work for a few more weeks. Text him."

"And how will Biker Guy get his phone number?"

"Tell him you asked that Sam guy before your date."


	7. 3 For the Price of 1

**Song used in this chapter is Beauty School Drop Out, from the Glease Episode.**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**_

* * *

Kurt was busy double checking that all the costumes were in their places on Friday during first period when his phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.

 _I passed by the park this morning. The view was much better when you had your arms around my waist._

Kurt blushed, not believing what he'd just received.

 _How on earth did you get this number?_ he texted back, looking around the busy backstage area as if his mystery man would just be standing around somewhere. Which, he had to admit, would be very creepy.

 _Your blond friend gave it to me when you ran inside with your brother._

Kurt looked around to find Sam, who was going through a final costume check with Mercedes. He was looking at Kurt knowingly, a sneaky smile playing on his mouth. Kurt rolled his eyes but hid a blush as Sam made kissy faces at him.

 _Sorry about him, by the way. He's usually not so barbaric. But he won't be a problem anymore, that's a promise._

 _Good to know._

Kurt chewed on his lip, walking behind the clothing rack so nobody would see him texting when he was supposed to be working. _So am I ever going to get a name form you? Or a face?_

 _Both._

Kurt's heart fluttered and then hammered manically in his chest as he answered with one word. _When?_

 _After the play tonight._

 _You're coming to the play?_ Kurt suddenly wished he'd rehearsed more, even if he was only going to take part in one musical number, without a solo.

 _Wouldn't miss it, babe. Gtg. Catch ya later, cutie ;)_

* * *

What the hell had he just done? Blaine zoned out from his English class completely, Sebastian's phone shaking in his hands. Why did he tell Kurt he would reveal himself tonight? He didn't even have a plan.

"Mr. Anderson?"

"Huh? What?" Blaine snapped his head up at the sound of the teacher's voice, only to see a nearly empty classroom.

"The bell just rang for second period."

"Oh. Right," Blaine smiled, grabbing his books and walking out.

Mr. Schuester had cleared it with Blaine's second period teacher for him to go to the auditorium. Blaine walked nervously toward the auditorium, the gears in his head grinding to come up with what he was going to say to Kurt tonight.

"Nice going, Anderson," he mumbled to himself, making a couple of freshman girls who were passing by edge as far around him as possible.

* * *

"Alright guys, go grab a snack, try to relax," said Mr. Schue that afternoon, "And be back in thirty minutes to get ready."

The New Directions (plus Joe, Sugar, and a few of the Cheerios) didn't need telling twice. Everybody raced out of the auditorium through the back door to enjoy thirty minutes away from anything related to the musical.

Kurt was feeling even more giddy than he had that morning. Later tonight he would finally know who his Mystery Biker was. The only way tonight could get any better was if he found out who the mystery singer was, and then Carmen Tibideaux showed up and accepted him into NYADA on the spot.

As the New Directions stepped out into the parking lot, Kurt looked around and stopped in his tracks, making Mercedes stumble because her arm was linked with his. Sam wolf whistled and Quinn nudged Kurt in the ribs.

"Looks like somebody wants to wish you luck tonight, Kurt." the short haired blonde smiled, pushing him forward lightly.

"Shush," Kurt waved away her hand and started walking toward the motorcycle, trying to keep his smile from turning into a ridiculously goofy grin.

Before he could go more than three steps, however, the roar of motorcycles starting up nearby reached everybody's ears, and he was yanked backwards by Finn.

"Well, well, if it isn't the New Directions all lined up on their opening night," said the guy on Jesse's right. Kurt recognized him as the one who was always first to laugh at Jesse's stupid jokes, "Where's your little hero now?"

Before anybody could retort, a loud whistle sounded across the parking lot, making everybody's heads turn. Kurt felt the color drain from his face, and he shook his head at his mystery guy.

"Nice of you to join us!" Jesse called, "I was going to throw eggs at your friends, but putting my fist in your face will have to do."

"You'll have to catch me first."

Nearly a dozen engines roared to life as Kurt's guy sped off, Vocal Adrenaline following.

"We have to follow them!" Kurt yelled, digging for his keys as he ran toward his car.

Everybody managed to fit into Kurt, Finn, and Quinn's cars, but Kurt was driving so fast that the others soon fell behind.

"Kurt slow down before you kill us!" Tina yelled from the back seat.

"No! Don't slow down!" yelled Marley, receiving strange looks from Kurt and the rest of the girls, "I'll explain later! Just go!"

* * *

"I really do NOT have time for this," Blaine muttered as he raced down the back streets, trying his best to avoid those that had more traffic at this hour. He had only intended to say hello to Kurt before rushing back home to change into his normal clothes and be back in time for the musical. A motorcycle chase had definitely not been part of his plans.

"How do I shake them off?" Blaine muttered, thinking hard about the streets he knew.

He turned right and smirked when he saw a Road Construction sign. He had two blocks to make calculations in his head. He'd passed by the bridge that was still in construction dozens of times. The jump was going to be very, very big, but it was all Physics.

"It's all Physics," he repeated to himself, trying to swallow the nervous lump in his throat, "Here goes nothing."

He turned back to see not just the various motorcycles belonging to Vocal Adrenaline, but a familiar Navigator racing behind.

"Crap," Blaine swore. He'd have to text Kurt to let him know he was alright. Right now, however, he had four seconds to turn around and focus if he wanted to make this jump, "Three...two..."

Without counting to one, he tilted the front of his motorcycle as far up as he could and focused all his efforts on moving forward.

"Holy shit!" one of the motorcyclists from Vocal Adrenaline yelled as they all skidded to a stop.

Inside the Navigator, more than one girl was screaming.

"Kurt! Slow down!"

"Kurt the bridge!"

Kurt eased off the gas when he saw that Vocal Adrenaline had done the same on their bikes.

"Where is he? Do you see him?" Kurt asked breathlessly, his eyes serching through the motorcycles.

"I don't see him, Kurt," said Mercedes.

"He has to be there..." Marley whispered, looking pale.

Finn and Quinn's cars pulled up just as Vocal Adrenaline drove away, all of them looking nervous.

"Come on," said Rachel, opening the back door and climbing out with the others. The doors to the other two cars opened and they all came pouring out.

Kurt stood on shaking knees, not wanting to get closer to the unfinished bridge.

"Do you think he..." Tina started.

"It was a really big jump," Mike answered solemnly.

Kurt didn't want to think about what that could mean.

Sam, Puck, Finn, Santana, and Rory all stepped toward the edge of the street before the first end of the bridge started, scanning the entire area below.

"There's nothing down there," said Puck after a while.

"What do you mean there's nothing down there?" asked Quinn, stepping toward the edge but stopping when Puck held out a hand to stop her, making his way back away from the edge.

"I mean that if this guy fell, there would be a broken up motorcycle and somebody splattered at the bottom. There's nothing."

"He must have made the jump to the other side," Santana shrugged, "Half the bridge is already done. He could have made it."

"Nobody rides as well as he does," Rachel assured a still frozen Kurt, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure he made it."

"He jumped clean over that cop car the other day," said Brittany, "And that was a really big jump."

"I'm sure he's fine," said Sam, casting a reassuring glance at Marley without anybody else noticing.

"We should get back," said Finn in a small voice after a few seconds.

"I'll drive us back," said Rachel, letting Mercedes lead Kurt toward the passenger seat.

The drive back was completely silent in the Navigator. Kurt was staring worriedly out the window, and Marley was biting her lip.

"You know who he is, don't you?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"I..."

"Don't lie to me, Marley Rose. Do you know who he is or not?"

The air in the car became stiff. Rachel tightened her grip on the steering wheel and the other girls all stared between Marley and Kurt.

Finally Marley answered quietly, "I do. And so does Sam."

Kurt huffed, "Of course he does."

"Kurt, I..."

"It's fine," Kurt snipped.

"He wanted to be the one to tell you." Marley said, looking sown at her hands.

"I know. He was going to tell me later tonight."

"He still will," Marley assured.

"Marley..."

"Trust me," Marley pleaded, "Trust Sam. He's the one who gave him riding lessons. If Sam says he can make the jump, then he can make the jump."

Kurt nodded, but didn't say anything.

They drove for a few more minutes and stopped at a 7-Eleven.

"Kurt, I'm going to get you something to eat, too, okay?" said Mercedes, putting a hand on his shoulder before stepping out.

Kurt didn't say anything, nor did he make any move to get out of the car as the other Troubletones did. It ended up being just him and Marley, who spoke about a minute after the doors had closed.

"I texted him."

"And?" Kurt prompted.

"He hasn't answered," said Marley, "Maybe he dropped it."

"His pants ARE ridiculously tight." Kurt snorted sarcastically.

Marley giggled at that, "They're not always like that, I promise."

"I figured," Kurt sighed, "He's different, isn't he? He's not some cool biker?"

"He dressed differently," Marley shrugged, "But whatever attitude he has toward you, or however he treats you...that's all real. Sam taught him how to ride a motorcycle and he threw on a leather jacket but...the guy you know and the guy I know are still the same person."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The rest of the girls climbed back into the car, Rachel shoving a plastic bag with drinks and healthy snacks onto Kurt's lap.

"I wanted to get you brownie but Rachel wouldn't let me," said Tina.

"Eating junk before a show will make you bloated," said Rachel, pulling out of the parking lot and heading back to McKinley.

* * *

"Hi, Mom! Gotta change and head back to school!" Blaine called, already halfway up the stairs.

He rushed into his bedroom and peeled off the leather jacket and white t-shirt, stuffing his arms through the first polo shirt he could find.

"Sweater...sweater..."

"Here," his mom said from the doorway, handing him a red sweater that was still warm from the dryer, "What's going on?"

"I'm going to be late for opening night," he answered, pulling on the sweater and searching for his hair gel.

"You know, Blaine, all this rushing around and being late for things isn't like you," said Pam, sitting on the edge of Blaine's bed, "Is there something you want to tell me? Something that you've been keeping form me?"

Blaine stopped his hurried movements and turned to his mother with a sigh, "Mom, I promise it's nothing bad. You don't need to worry, okay? I just...I've been doing a lot of stuff at the same time. That's why I quit Lacrosse, remember?"

"I know you have a lot on your plate, sweetie. But you've always been that way. Lately you seem...distracted."

Blaine sat down next to her, taking her left hand in his right, "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to make fun of me, okay?"

"Promise," she smiled softly.

"There might be a guy..."

"I knew it!"

"Mo-om!"

"Sorry, sorry," Pam said, holding down her laughter, "Go on."

"I'm not sure yet, okay? But I really like him, and I think he really likes me. I won't really know for certain until tonight after the play."

"That's why you've been so distracted and unorganized?" Pam asked.

"Yes. I told you it wasn't anything bad, right? Now, I really need to flatten my hair and get going."

"Of course," Pam smiled and stood from the bed, "I won't keep you a minute longer."

"Don't wait up, okay? I'll text you when I'm on my way home."

Pam nodded and stepped out of the bedroom. Blaine flattened his hair with gel as fast as he could and made a grab for his car keys and patted his jean pockets for his cell phone. Except his phone wasn't there; neither his regular phone nor the one Sebastian had loaned him were in his pockets. He checked his jacket, but they weren't there either. He was sure he'd put them in his jean pockets. They must have fallen out when he jumped.

"Great. That's wonderful." Blaine muttered, heading down to the garage, "Mom! I think I lost my phone! I'll text you from Sam's later and go buy one tomorrow! Bye!"

He didn't wait for Pam to answer as he turned on the car and pulled out of the garage, driving as fast as he legally could to get back to McKinley in time.

When he stepped out of his car, Marley was waiting for him by the back door. He barely had time to take a couple steps before her arms were around him.

"Thank God you're okay! Why haven't you answered your phone?!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I think my phone fell when I jumped. How's Kurt?"

"He's freaking out. It's like he's in shock," said Marley, "He and Sam were out here too but Mr. Schuester told them they had to get inside. I was only allowed to be out here for five more minutes. And Mr. Schue's been looking all over for you. You're super late."

"I know, I know, but I had to shake off those idiots, didn't I?" said Blaine, making his way toward the door before Marley grabbed him by the arm.

"Kurt knows that Sam and I know who you are. We didn't tell him, though! He knows that you wanted to do it," she assured.

"Do me a favor?"

"Yeah."

"Tell Kurt that I'm okay and that I'll talk to him at Artie's after party, okay? I have to get to the control room."

"Okay."

* * *

The first act went off without a hitch. Blaine made all the light switches correctly, and nobody stumbled or forgot their lines onstage. When he blacked out for intermission, Mr. Schuester stepped out of the control box with a pat on Blaine's back.

Blaine sat there for five minutes. After everything that had happened today, he still had no idea how he was going to tell Kurt who he was tonight. He had just put his head in his hands and huffed in frustration when the door to the control room burst open.

"Dude! Mr. Schuester needs you right now!" Puck said, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the control room and through the outer hallway so the audience wouldn't see them going backstage.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked in curiosity. He cast a glance toward Kurt, who looked worried. Then again, the entire cast and all of the stage hands were looking worried, so Blaine guessed it had nothing to do with his motorcycle chase earlier.

"Blaine, Rory hurt his leg and now he can't do Beauty School Dropout." said Mr. Schuester.

"Um...oookay," said Blaine, still just as confused.

Mr. Schuester pulled him aside and kept his voice low. Blaine saw Rory stretched out on the backstage couch with an ice pack on his foot before turning his back on the others.

"Blaine, I know you said you don't sing in front of crowds but...Finn and Sam are the only two guys we can spare for the second act and they don't fit into the costume."

Blaine turned around, finding that every person in the room was watching him, "What makes you think I even know the words?"

"I've seen you mouth all the words to the entire production during our rehearsals," said Rachel, who could clearly hear what was supposedly a private conversation, "I'm very observant that way."

"But...I..."

"Dude, you're our last hope," said Finn, and Blaine had never seen a better kicked-puppy impression since Sebastian Smythe.

"We don't even know if you can sing," said Santana, "That's how desperate we are."

Blaine chewed on his lips and looked at Kurt, who was looking hopeful. Boy, would he be in for a surprise. Mr. Schuester also looked like a kicked puppy, and the others were clearly holding their breaths. Rory sat there looking guilty.

Blaine thought back to what Sebastian had said before, about how people had already heard him sing without him knowing it. He also thought back to everything he had done in the past couple of months. He'd learned to ride a motorcycle, he had kissed and wooed the guy of his dreams, and not two hours ago he had jumped across a giant abyss on his motorcycle and driven away without a scratch. Singing might not be such a scary task after that.

"Okay. Alright. I'll do it."

The entire cast sighed in relief. Some clapped and some patted him on the back, while Tina and Mercedes grabbed him by the arms to go change.

"We don't have time to redo your hair, but at least it looks like something a preppy guy from the 50s would wear." said Tina.

"Gee, thanks," Blaine joked, grabbing the white shirt, pants, and shoes that Mercedes handed him.

"Oh! I didn't mean it in a bad way," said Tina, "I think it suits you."

"Well, thank you, then. Um...where can I go change?"

"Behind that screen," said Mercedes, "Artie will give you your cue when it's time so just go stand near the stage when you're dressed. Do you think the shoes will fit?"

"They're half a size bigger than mine. I'll manage it. Who's going to take care of lighting?"

"Sam. They can spare him until your scene, but you have to rush back there as soon as it's over."

Blaine changed quickly, his hands shaking. That was twice he was going to reveal himself to Kurt, then. First as the mysterious voice, and then as the mysterious biker. How on earth had it only been three hours ago that he was climbing on his bike to see Kurt before the show?

When it was his turn to go on, there was so much on his mind that he could barely feel nervous. Distantly, he wished his parents and Cooper were here, especially his mom. She was always so sad when he wouldn't sing. His heart started hammering in his chest when he sang the first two lines, but as soon as he started the third one, his heart got lighter and the noise in his head stopped.

He'd been afraid of singing in front of people for so long that he'd forgotten why he loved it so much in the first place. Singing cleared his head, yes, but it also made his heart soar. It made him feel like he could share anything with anybody and they wouldn't judge him, because singing out your feelings is always so much more beautiful and artistic than just blurting them out, if a bit impersonal. He could see Sugar's surprise in her wide eyed but delighted smile, and the way the dancers were staring at him under their fake silver rollers. He would have to apologize specifically to Sam and Marley after this, for telling them that he wasn't a good singer.

 _Can't even get a trade in on your smiiiiiile_

He heard the gasps from everybody backstage as the dancers began to move, and it only made him smile more as he made his way down half the flimsy white steps.

 _Beauty school dropout, no graduation for you_

 _Beauty school dropout, missed your midterms and flunked shampoo_

 _Well at least you could have taken time to wash and clean your clothes up_

 _After spending all that dough to have the doctor fix your nose up_

On the word nose, he had reached Sugar and touched a finger to her nose, making her hurry to hide a smile.

 _Baby don't sweat it, you're not cut out to hold the job_

 _Better forget it, who wants their hair done by a slob_

 _Now your bangs are curled, your lashes twirled, and still the world is cruel_

 _Wipe of that angel face and go back to high school_

He circled the booth where Sugar was sitting and sat himself down next to her, putting his arm around her like he'd watched Rory do in rehearsals

 _Baby don't blow it, don't put my good advice to shame_

His eyes drifted somewhere behind Sugar's ear and he almost froze. Kurt was standing behind the curtain with his arms crossed over his chest, somewhere between shocked and completely livid. Blaine forced himself to turn back to Sugar and sing directly to her.

 _Baby you know it, even Dear Abby's say the same_

He stood up and circled back behind Sugar and to the steps, heading upward as the song ended.

 _Now I've called the shot, get off the pot, I really gotta fly_

 _Gotta be goin' to that maltshop in the sky_

 _Beauty school dropout, go back to high school_

 _Beauty school dropout, go back to high school_

 _Beauty school dropout, go back to high school_

He stood at the top step and looked out at the crowd as Sugar pretended to faint. The entire auditorium, including those backstage, burst into applause and Blaine felt a huge smile stretch across his face as the curtain began to close. The moment it did, Blaine stepped down from the white stairs and began to make his way back to change. Before he could make it very far, Sugar gave him a quick hug and whispered, "That was amazing," before racing off.

Blaine chanced one last look at Kurt on the other side of the stage. He still had the same expression, but Blaine couldn't do anything except give him an apologetic look before Artie was using his wheelchair to push him toward wardrobe.

"Go so Sam can get back in time!" Artie hissed, and Blaine nodded quickly and sprinted off toward wardrobe.

Mercedes shoved his clothes into his arms and told him to change in the control room between light changes, warning that if he stained the white costume she would "sic Santana on him."

Blaine didn't see Kurt for the rest of the evening except for when Kurt was onstage and Blaine was changing the lights during the final number.

When the curtain finally fell closed, Blaine stayed behind to check that everything was back in place for tomorrow's matinee while the actors and Mr. Schuester all went backstage. It was probably cowardly to give Mr. Schue his neatly folded up costume to give to Mercedes, but he was now finding it harder than ever to tell Kurt who he really was. Would Kurt easily forgive all the lies Blaine had been telling him? He'd basically been three different people to Kurt, all of whom couldn't possibly be connected. And now he was about to admit that he was all three? Blaine wasn't sure he would forgive himself if he was in Kurt's shoes.

"This is shit," Blaine sighed into his hands, rubbing at his face as if that would give him some idea of what to say. Finally, figuring that most of the others would have gone to Artie's by now, he turned off the lamp in the control room and left.

He was very wrong in his assumption. Sam, Finn, Puck, Jake, Marley, Sugar, Kurt, Rachel, and Mercedes were all still lounging around the parking lot. Finn and Kurt's cars and Puck, Jake, and Sam's motorcycles were the only vehicles still there aside from Blaine's Mazda.

Blaine walked quietly to his car, which was farther away since he'd been so late, feeling everybody's eyes on him as he opened the passenger door to grab his jacket. It was probably a bad idea to put on the leather jacket that Kurt would probably recognize, but it was cold and he was tired. He took his time getting it out and closing the door, however, slowly making his way back to the New Directions who were obviously expecting an explanation.

"Um...well, first I guess I should say sorry to you, Marley and Sugar. For telling you I couldn't sing," Blaine rubbed the back of his neck. The girls seemed to accept the apology and shrugged, "And you, Sam. Sorry about that. I was being honest about the stage fright, though! Up until yesterday the thought of singing in public gave me panic attacks."

"But that wasn't the first time you sang," said Kurt, his arms still crossed but looking at least a fraction less angry, "In public, I mean."

"No. No, it wasn't. I used to sing all the time but...ah...something happened...and I kind of...stopped."

"Stopped?" asked Rachel, as if it were horrible to think about.

"Um, yeah. Stopped. For good. Or at least I thought it was for good. I guess tonight changed that," said Blaine, still not looking any of them in the eyes, "I just...I couldn't...couldn't do it. That's why I didn't tell you that I was the singer you heard the other day."

"And how did Mr. Schue know?" asked Jake.

"He heard me yesterday at lunch."

"You said you were studying!" said Marley.

"Yeah...that was a lie, too. Sorry. I promise not to lie to you anymore, Marley."

"I'm not sure I'm the person you should be promising that to, Blaine," Marley said suggestively.

"What does she mean by that?" asked Puck.

"Really, Marley? Now?"

"Yes, now! Otherwise I know you might never tell him."

"Tell who what?" asked Sugar.

"Um...I...Sam, help me out here," Blaine pleaded.

"Sorry, dude. I'm with Marley on this one. You gotta tell him."

"Wha...I didn't exactly want an audience for this."

"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on!" Kurt yelled, making the chaos come to a stop.

Blaine took a deep breath and turned toward the guy that he was pretty sure he was half in love with by now, "Kurt I..."

Before he could say anything else, the roar of motorcycles coming up the block made everybody stop and Blaine groan out loud.

"Again?" Quinn asked, sounding as exasperated as Blaine felt.

"Hey, Hummel! Where's your boyfriend now?!" Jesse St. James yelled as the bikes circled the New Directions members. There were only four guys with him now, but they were still just as annoying.

Blaine huffed in frustration and turned toward Sam as Vocal Adrenaline drove particularly close to Rachel, making her scream and jump against Finn.

"Sam! Give me your bike!"

"What?! Are you crazy?!"

"No!" said Blaine, throwing on his jacket and thrusting his car keys into Sam's hand and shoving the blond off his motorcycle, "Take my car! Get out of here, all of you!"

"Are you insane?!" Kurt yelled, "You're going to kill yourself! Do you even know how to turn that thing on?"

"I'm not going to kill myself, Kurt, get in the car!" Blaine yelled as Vocal Adrenaline started to rip away the posters and flyers on the wall of the auditorium and its parking lots' fence.

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Get in the car, Kurt!"

"No!"

"Finn, put your brother in the car!"

Finn grabbed Kurt by the waste and lifted him up, pushing him into the backseat of his Navigator and ordering Rachel to take the wheel.

"Here," said Sam, handing Blaine his helmet.

"You got a plan, Nerd?" asked Puck.

"Yeah. Don't get too close or you'll fall in the pool," said Blaine, starting up Sam's bike as the others climbed into the two cars. Blaine raised an eyebrow when Marley climbed onto the back of Jake's bike, but stayed silent and turned his bike around to face Jesse and his guys, "Hey! Looking for me?!"

Jesse stopped immediately at the sound of Blaine's fake voice, his friends pulling up behind him.

"Don't you ever give up?"

"Catch me for once and you'll find out!"

Blaine spun around sharply. What he was about to do was totally illegal in so many ways, but he figured that if a security guard hadn't come to find them by now, they weren't going to show up at all.

"Alright punks, let's see how cocky you really are," Blaine thought as he raced through the outer parts of the school until he reached the sports areas, "Please work."

He raced past the locker rooms, the gym, and circled the football field until he reached his destination: the practice pool. **(A/N: For the purpose of this story, McKinley's practice pool is for Gym class and training and is the size of a regular pool, and the pool where Will proposed to Emma is for competitions and swim teams only)**.

He made the jump across easily, smiling in satisfaction as he heard various splashes behind him. He went back around to find the New Directions' cars and motorcycles waiting for him and motioned for them to follow. As they drove out, Blaine stopped in front of the auditorium and pulled on the fire alarm by the door, motioning for the others to keep going. Somebody was sure to show up now that the fire alarm had been pulled, and they would probably get here in time to see five top members of Carmel High School's Glee Club trying to pull their motorcycles out of the pool well after hours.

Blaine allowed himself to fist pump the air and holler in triumph as he led the others to Artie's house. Well, it looked like he wasn't going to need to tell Kurt the truth after all. The cat was out of the bag. If he was totally honest with himself, it felt good not to be keeping secrets.

Blaine pulled up to Artie's driveway, both Puckermans stopping next to him. Sam came next in Blaine's car, and Finn and Rachel parked the two remaining vehicles on the curb.

"Thanks, man," said Blaine, handing Sam his keys and helmet.

"I would say any time, but that would be a lie," said Sam, clutching closely to his helmet, "I am never letting you touch my baby ever again."

Blaine laughed and shook his head, turning to Marley as Jake helped her off his motorcycle. Marley looked at Blaine sheepishly as he crossed his arms and put on his best "dad face."

"You know motorcycles are dangerous, don't you, young lady?"

"Oh shut up," Marley blushed, but punched Blaine lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey! Watch the jacket!" Blaine laughed before turning to Jake and looking serious again, "You take care of my best friend. Otherwise I might have to throw you in the big pool."

Marley snorted and rolled her eyes. Puck laughed at his brother.

"Got it," Jake nodded before letting out a laugh and putting an arm around Marley.

The rest of the New Directions had crowded around them, and Blaine was now aware of Kurt's gaze settled steadily on him. Sam cleared his throat loudly and spoke, "Uh...maybe we should all go inside. It sounds like the party started..."

There were many awkward mumbles of agreement as the New Directions made their way inside, leaving Kurt and Blaine in the driveway.

"So..." Blaine rolled on the balls of his feet, his hands going to his pockets.

"So."

it was silent for three second before they both spoke at the same time.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Why didn't you-"

They both stopped, blushes playing on their faces.

"You can go first," said Blaine.

"Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"Honestly?" Blaine asked, leaning against the seat of Sam's bike, "I figured you would lose any interest in me if I told you who I really was."

When Kurt's mouth fell open but he didn't say anything, Blaine looked down at the floor. He was right. Kurt wanted nothing to do with him. He was about to apologize when a pair of feet entered his line of sight. When he looked up, Kurt was standing so close that their breaths mingled. Before Blaine could even think about what that might mean, Kurt's lips were on his, and he was drowning again.

One kiss became two, and then three, until he lost count of how many times Kurt's lips pecked his, slowly and softly so that Blaine was grateful for the bike keeping him up. Kurt pulled away, looking as breathless as Blaine felt.

"Does that look like losing interest to you?" Kurt whispered, his arms draping over Blaine's shoulders as his face burrowed into Blaine's neck.

Blaine almost stopped talking and pulled Kurt closer, but they needed to talk about this, "But when I was singing...you were so mad..."

"I was mad at myself," Kurt laughed, pulling back to look Blaine in the eyes, "For not figuring it out sooner. For not seeing that you were right there under my nose the entire time. I felt stupid."

"You're not stupid."

"Well, that's how I felt, okay? I know I'm not, but I felt stupid for not figuring it out. Honestly, I still feel stupid for not figuring it out now."

"Figuring what out?" asked Blaine.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Aren't you supposed to be the smarter one here? Blaine, for the last couple of months I have spent all of my time thinking about three guys, and now it turns out that YOU are all three of them."

"The biker and the singer; that's only two. Who's the third one?" Blaine asked, although he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Some nerd who is obsessed with bow ties," Kurt joked, leaning in and kissing Blaine much deeper this time. When they pulled apart, Kurt ran his hands up and down Blaine's arms, "You're shaking."

"It's a little cold," Blaine shrugged, repeating Kurt's words from the other day.

"Liar," Kurt smirked.

"Can I kiss you again?" Blaine asked, although he knew now that he didn't have to.

"Even if we have an audience?" asked Kurt, motioning to Artie's house where they could make out silhouettes watching them through the windows.

"Funny story," said Blaine, "I seem to have left my stage fright in Westerville."

"Well, then, I guess that answers that question." Kurt smiled, leaning forward to meet Blaine in the middle.

"You're going to make me audition for the Glee Club, aren't you?" Blaine asked when they pulled apart. He climbed onto the seat of the bike with his back against the front of it, Kurt sitting with his legs on one side so that his side was pressed up against Blaine's front.

"Weeell...it IS sort of an unwritten code that Crooners and Troubletones only date among themselves..."

"And will I be a Crooner or a Troubletone?" Blaine asked, raising his eyebrows.

Kurt smirked in a way that was so sexy Baline almost blushed. Almost. He was getting better at this, it seemed.

"Well, I'm not sure motorcycles are something I want to get going in the Troubletones. And I do love me a guy on a motorcycle," he said huskily, leaning closer to Blaine.

"Well then," Blaine muttered almost against Kurt's lips, "Crooner it is."

"Aaww, you guys, come one!" Sam's voice rang from the door, "Not my bike!"

Kurt flipped off Sam and pressed a quick but very strong kiss onto Blaine's lips before jumping off the bike, Blaine following him inside while laughing loudly at the look on Sam's face.


	8. The Happy Ending

**So this story is FINALLY coming to an end. I apologize so much for the delay, but in the past couple of months I started my first job as a Press and Publicity specialist and there is literally NO REST. Unfortunately I can't promise that I will be uploading my other stories as often as I used to, but it WILL be more often than this.**

 **Thank you for all the great comments on this story. I'm currently working on another Klaine AU that is a bit more of a fantasy genre. That should be up soon but again, I'm not sure how often I will be uploading that or my other stories.**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters.**_

* * *

"Alright, guys, we had a great run!" said Mr. Schuester when they had ended their last show-a Sunday matinee-and were settled into the choir room with snacks and music, "Enjoy the wrap up party because tomorrow, it's time to really hit the books with Sectionals!"

"Oh, Mr. Schuester," Rachel stepped forward, "Before we begin, I believe Finn and Puck have an announcement to make, as well as Kurt and Quinn."

"Of course," Mr. Schue nodded, "You have the floor."

Quinn and Puck, being Kurt and Finn's second-in-commands, walked toward the piano to grab two boxes containing jackets and stood on either side of their respective leaders.

"After careful observation and consideration," Kurt started, "On behalf of the Troubletones, I would like to welcome Marley Rose as our newest addition. And we would also like to welcome back the lovely Miss Sugar Motta."

Jake gave Marley a kiss on her head while the others clapped for her and Sugar. The two girls stood up and accepted their newly stitched Troubletone jackets, accepting a hug from Kurt and Quinn before going to take their seats.

"Finn, it's your turn," said Kurt when everybody had gone silent.

"Right. Uh. Well, Rory got injured and he's not going to be able to join us for about a month. So he's going to get inducted after Sectionals...but we still have two more new people. Uh...the Crooning Titans welcome Jake Puckerman and Blaine Anderson."

Jake got up quickly to accept his jacket, but Blaine was slightly more hesitant.

"But, I'm not in Glee Club. I haven't even auditioned," said Blaine, causing Kurt to roll his eyes and many others, Mr. Schue included, to laugh.

"I think watching Sugar swoon at you for three days was audition enough," said Kurt.

"Jealous, Hummel?" Mike teased, making everybody coo at Kurt.

"Blaine, consider what I heard you playing on Thursday as your audition." said Mr. Schue, "We'll go change your schedule tomorrow morning."

"Now do you want this jacket or not, kid?" Puck asked, holding out the piece of clothing in question.

Blaine smiled brightly and walked forward, letting Finn and Puck help him into the jacket and pat him on the back like they had Jake.

"Alright," said Quinn, walking towards Puck to link her arm through his, "Time to party."

The music grew louder and somebody dimmed the lights, the noise growing instantly as everybody walked to the snack table or the center of the room to dance.

Blaine turned and saw Kurt still standing there, looking at him with an amused expression.

"Soo..." said Blaine, inching closer to his now-boyfriend.

"So."

"Looks like you won't have to break Troubletone code after all, Mr. Leader."

"I guess not, rookie," said Kurt, his fingers skimming the zipper of Blaine's new jacket, "Nice pants, by the way."

Blaine looked down at the rather tight jeans he had paired with a white polo shirt and black vest and smirked, "Well, someone told me that on Halloween they heard the words, and I quote, 'I think I'd remember an ass like that' come out of this really cute guy's mouth. So I figured I'd make sure he never forgets again."

"I'm going to kill Sam," said Kurt seriously, stepping away from Blaine, "Excuse me for a minute."

Blaine laughed and grabbed Kurt's arm, resting his hands on both of his boyfriend's shoulders before he could go further, "Actually, it was Santana."

Kurt sighed, "Then I guess I'll have to leave it be."

"I wouldn't want anything to happen to your beautiful face," said Blaine, "I'm more than a little fond of it."

"Is that the only thing your fond of?"

Blaine blushed profusely. Even if he had gained a little confidence in the past couple of months, he was still Blaine Anderson, shy nerd extraordinaire.

"If I made a list, I'd run out of paper."

Kurt groaned AND laughed, "You are such a cheeseball."

"You like it." said Blaine, flicking Kurt's nose lightly with his finger.

Their lips came together for a short kiss that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the New Directions, who all whooped and laughed.

"Are you even real?" Blaine teased, repeating the question Kurt had asked not so many days ago.

"If I kiss you again, will that prove it to you?"

"It might."

Before they could kiss again, Mr. Scheuster was suddenly standing on a chair and yelling.

"Guys! MICHAEL JACKSON! MJ for Sectionals!" their teacher screamed in excitement before jumping off the chair and rushing back into his office mumbling something about his scale model.

"Don't worry," Kurt said to Blaine, "You'll get used to it."

 **THE END**


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